


The Superior Nova

by glittergrenade



Category: Nova (Comics)
Genre: (meaning when it gets to Penance), AU, Alcohol, Angst, Anti-Annihilation: Conquest, CONTINUITY IS DEAD, Crazy Rich, Debatably Evil Rich, Gen, Mental Illness, Nova Force, Post-Annihilation, Post-Civil War, Pre-Secret Invasion, Self-Harm, but anyways yeah no continuity, fast and loose with canon, i love them both and they both my lil gems, not a richard rider return story, ofc not implying that rich is in any way superior to sam, ok enough tags, sorry ultron, zero continuity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-23 14:43:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 57,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4880770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glittergrenade/pseuds/glittergrenade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if the Nova Force'd had a totally different affect on Richard from the start, and made him go power-hungry insane?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a lonnnnng time ago… okay, not long enough ago to excuse any total disregard for continuity... like yeeeaaah uh-huh... I was like younger when I wrote it so yeah!! I wrote this during the Superior Spider-Man run: why I'm calling him superior. But it IS Richard, not some other guy, so tbh it's more like Superior Iron Man! Oh, and for the purposes of this fic, just rn take a moment to forget everything you ever read in "Annihilation: Conquest: Quasar"… and possibly the whole rest of the Annihilation: Conquest event, just to be on the safe side. Is it forgotten? Chill ;) Now, here's my old story thingy.

It was always a little worse without his uniform.

…Which made sense, of course, Richard mused as he leaned over the rail of his hospital balcony on Tantus 4. His heart was pounding, and his mind was racing. He could _feel_ the very being of the cosmos, lightyears all around him, as raw power surged through his limbs, more power than in any of the stars. Anyhow, the Worldmind had made adjustments to his Nova Corps helmet and uniform, to aid in containing and regulating the energy that now flowed through his veins, but that was gone now; he hadn't seen the uniform since waking up in the hospital after killing Annihilus. It had used to be that he was only one centurion out of many, but that seemed so long ago now. The entirety of the Nova force was his, and it was inside of his very being. He was more "Nova" now than he'd ever been. And not only because he was the only Nova left now.

Heh. Only one left. That reminder ruined the rest of his already-anxious train of thought. This happened all the time lately. It sucked. After all, what did he have left but his thoughts? Then again, it didn't totally suck, because he wasn't sure how much stock he should put into his thoughts anyway. Nothing was okay these days; he had no idea how he was gonna continue any aspect of his life, seeing as how the Annihilation Wave had torn it forever into a million pieces. Nothing was the same anymore. Oh screw that train of thought, where the heck was he?

The Nova Force.

It was much different from the last time. Oh yup, he'd had the whole Nova Force before, back when he was just a kid fighting Supernova Garthan Saal. Back then, Rich had been energy and life and excitement and thrill and fire. The Queen of Xandar and the New Warriors had talked him down from his power-hungry high, so he had been able to give it up before destroying any planets. But well, back then, he hadn't had the Worldmind living in his head! Whether Rich wore his uniform or not; that couldn't not change things. Lessened the rush. Worldmind was always a party pooper. Still, it was odd how differently having the whole Nova Force was affecting him this time. It was legit _intriguing_. Dammit, he must've grown up — a lot. He did _feel_ more grown up.

[You **are** more grown up, Richard. And as **emotional** impact goes, the **Nova Force** affects everyone differently at difference stages in life. Still, I'm attempting to make calculations with reference to my vast databanks on the **Nova Force** as to why it is affecting you so much less strongly this time. **Forgive** me if I'm not as talkative.]

"Outta the kindness of my heart, I forgive you; but now you owe me for this favor," Richard told Worldmind in a sarcastic mutter, at which he could practically feel the living computer's annoyance. But hey, don't ask for forgiveness if you don't really want it. Damn.

Not to get the wrong impression — Richard's thoughts right now weren't exclusively negative. Honestly, it felt _good_ , all this power, long as he didn't struggle too hard — on that note, it also was terrifying as hell. It made him scared of himself. He sure hadn't been great at holding the whole Nova Force when he was a kid, and now this… this was gonna be long term… Richard didn't know what he might do… like, what if it got beyond his control once again? Nah, like that was gonna happen. He was strong enough. _I should go inside_ , he decided. Maybe that would help him stop being so philosophical. There had to be something sexy he could daydream about in his fancy hospital room.

He turned around and half-walked, half-hopped to the screen door. His bare arms were shaking, though he didn't feel cold. It was as if the universe was telling him to embrace the Nova Force, to quit being such a coward about power, and then his life would quit being so hopeless… or maybe, it might be that his body was subconsciously trying to rid itself of a power too great for him. Hilarious. _Thought I just settled that I CAN hold my damn superpowers._ He stepped inside and slammed the door behind him, much harder than he'd intended. Then he climbed into his hospital bed, pulled his feet in, and tucked the blanket over his head, mentally commanding himself to calm down. Relax. Be mellow. He wasn't generally a 'mellow' person, but he'd decided he had to be more careful about those things, now that he was the vessel of all that was left of Xandar.

Oh man… all that was left. How could he do this on his own? What if he couldn't do it? What if all this power did destroy him?

He was jerked out of his thoughts by a noise. Running footsteps sounded in the hall, and then the door was opened abruptly. "Richie?"

Richard recognized the voice and gait of Peter Quill, who had once been moderately known throughout the galaxy as the Legendary Star-Lord. The two of them had become good friends in the course of the War. Peter was like a big brother to him, practically blood out here in this region of the galaxy; they were both Terran-born, both at least part human. Peter was that one guy who was near always able to wrench both feelings of respect and annoyance out of Richard at the same time — probably without even realizing it. He'd seemed different lately, however, Rich had noticed; almost withdrawn, if that was even possible for such a smart-alek. He knew Peter still felt terrible for the thing that had ended him up in the Kyln — and they weren't on the same page about whether it was still Peter should be acting as Star-Lord.

"Richie," Peter repeated, softer this time, tiptoeing towards the bed. "Was that you I distinctly heard slamming the door just now? Are you awake?"

Richard didn't reply. Honestly, he wanted to be left alone. He just wanted Quill to go away and leave him to struggle internally for control over the Nova force. It was his power. He would show it who was boss.

"Right on, Richie, that was a rhetorical question," Peter said, and peeled the blanket off of Richard's face. Richard winced. Respect and annoyance, there it was going. But especially annoyance.

"What do you want?" he mumbled. "I feel like a gloorard, and I don't see any coffee in your hand. Plus, I've told you not to call me Richie."

Through his slitted eyes, Richard could see concern cloud Peter's face. "And why exactly would you feel like a gloorard? It's been days, Nova. I thought your superpowers were supposed to have taken care of that."

"Well, maybe my _superpowers_ aren't always the coolest thing in the galaxy," Nova retorted. "Now go away."

"Why so grumpy?" Peter sat down on the bed beside him, bouncing it a little. "You used to be such a fun guy! Who are you and what have you done with Richard Rider?"

"Who are you and what have you done with Star-Lord?" Richard replied. He opened his eyes fully to look at his friend directly in the face. Peter blinked, hurt showing in his eyes for only a second. His human eye and cybernetic eye were perfectly synchronized, but Richard felt vaguely bad for him for having it. As a cyborg, Peter wouldn't fit in well back home, and the metal was only too obvious on most of the right half of his face. Of course, he knew, Peter had no interest in returning to Earth, so it didn't much matter in actuality.

"Hey. You butchered my line," Peter accused, but Rich could see the deeper meaning behind the quip, and he almost felt guilty. Peter didn't just _not want_ to be Star-Lord; the name reminded him of his failures. It was really too bad, Rich thought.

Richard sighed. "Das't it, Peter. I know you've been through a lot."

"We've all been through a lot," Peter corrected softly. "But you're a hero, Richie! You saved the universe, how many people can say they've done that? It's a cause for celebration!" He clapped his fists together.

A smile actually found its way onto Richard's face. "Ah, maybe. But now as the last Nova, my _duty_ is to police the galaxy. Maybe someday I'll rebuild Xandar, recruit some more Novas, and then we can celebrate. Someday."

Peter patted him on the arm. "I think that's an awesome idea, and you absolutely should. So… does that mean you're gonna stop wasting your Nova Force in bed?"

Rich stared at him for a second while he tried to register what Peter meant by that question. Then he scowled. The worry was only too obvious on Peter's face, even though he seemed to be trying hard to hide it. Wasting his Nova Force in bed? That irritated Rich. He was just being practical. Actually thinking things through for once. Taking precautions. Not being the cocky hotshot he usually always was. "I'm not _depressed_ , Pete. My body just physically feels like crap, okay?" Rich was legit worried of losing control of himself like the last time, but he had the _will_ to go do things if he _chose_ to. If there was anything _worth_ doing, when things were so different. Of course.

"What?" Peter scratched his head innocently, though the pitch of his voice raised a notched. "When did I ever say you were depressed?"

Richard sighed and rolled over, facing away from him. "Leave me alone, Peter. Don't make me kick your ass over this."

"Hey." Peter's voice grew surprisingly gentle, which was probably a very bad sign. "I know a lot of people died recently… friends among them… but their number'd be exponentially greater if it wasn't for you. That sounded wrong. Rich, think of all the lives you saved. Wendell would be very proud of you, I know it." Damn, Wendell. One of the people Rich had failed to save… Quasar was a great man. Why did Peter feel the need to bring that up? Richard didn't reply immediately, and Peter stood up. "Alright, fine, I'm getting the message loud and clear. But I'ma prepare a party anyhow. Be ready at six tonight! I'll ask Gamora to wear something extra provocative for you today. If nothing can get you cheered up, she will."

"You're forgetting I left her in my bed to hang with you, during the War," Richard pointed out, and the smirk wasn't too hard to pull on his face.

Peter laughed. "Well, I'll be there too, in all my sexy glory. So you're up for it?"

Richard pulled the blanket back over his head. "I'll think about it."

"Good," Peter whistled brightly, "because, y'know, it's not like you've got a choice." He strode away, whistling the tune to some Earth song that Richard vaguely recognized. The moment Peter he was gone, Richard's smirk vanished — no point in keeping that shit up anymore, now that there was nobody assuming he was depressed — as he turned his thoughts back to the Nova force. His entire body started shaking, as if it'd been repressed the whole time Peter was here. Ugh. He _really_ didn't feel normal.


	2. Chapter 2

"Whaddaya mean, you're star systems away? The party is now! Get your asses over here and let's try and cheer up our despairysome lil man-friend! Why the hell did you leave so soon in the first place?" Peter was pacing up and down in his hotel room, his communicator operating from his side table.

"'Despairysome'?" Moondragon echoed, after a silence. "Is that even a word?"

"Um…" Peter hesitated. "Ah, just, don't tell Rich I described him with that completely distinguished term. I mean, of course it's understandable, him feeling off, some, with all that's happened. The Annihilation War, it… was one of the most horrible things I've ever experienced, possibly the _most_ horrible. But… you know how fun Rich used to be! And then now he's just… well… I know what it's like to feel… it just hurts to see him this way, okay? I care for the kid, is all." Peter took a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair. "I don't like to see him depressed. It's gotten consistently worse ever since the whole thing started. I've noticed. I thought he would get better now that it's over, but…" Peter shook his head, as if trying to clear it. "Flark, I'm being melodramatic. Totally melodramatic, that's me! Please will you come?"

"Maybe we should," Phyla-vell spoke, presumably to her lover.

Heather sighed. "Maybe. Hey Quill, should we bring along Adam Warlock? We found this strikingly familiar cocoon here on this Kree outworld, and we were fighting some guys, but it seems the cocoon accidentally got stabbed open, and something seems to be happening."

"Uh…" Peter hesitated. "I don't know. It depends what kind of a mood he's in… ever heard of the Magus? Ha. Sure if it'd get the kid moving around again, still, the last thing we need is Richard antagonized, when he's just been through what he has. Besides, there's no killing allowed at this party. That's why I invited Ronan, he's fab at accusing… disorderly conductors!"

"Oh, pama," Phyla cursed.

"Hey, he's not half bad these days," Peter began, but Phyla cut him off.

"No, not Ronan. Warlock's waking up. Tell me, is he really that bad?"

"No, he's great," Peter winced. He didn't really know Adam himself, he was mostly going by what he'd heard too, but he just really wasn't so sure. "Whether or not to invite him is up to your best judgement. Heather?"

"Adam's amazing, I think he should definitely come along," Heather said.

"Right. Not what I was saying 'Heather' about, though." Peter paused. Of course she couldn't read his mind over this long distance — not that he figured she'd be eager to answer his actual question, anyhow. "Where's Drax? I've been making calls everywhere, unsuccessfully, and I kinda wanted to invite him to the party."

"Don't ask me," Heather replied smoothly. "How would I know any better than you? You know how my father's like."

"Right," Peter said slowly. He knew she was lying to protect Drax, and he made sure his tone got across so she knew he knew that she was. "I guess that's it, then. Well, I haven't called the Surfer yet, but with him returning as Galactus' herald, and that big man's reportedly increased appetite, I doubt he'll have the time."

"Das't them both," Phyla muttered. Peter knew that she didn't really mean it.

There was a painful ripping sound in the background, and then a voice: the weak but familiar voice of Adam Warlock. "What…?"

"I should let you go," Peter said.

"You should," Heather agreed.

"And don't worry," Peter added hurriedly. "Richie will be fine."

"Yeah," Heather acknowledged flatly.

"Heather? Is that… my memory is…" Adam's voice sounded stronger now, and not exactly happy. Moondragon hung up her communicator, and Peter sighed.

"The hell he'll be fine," he mumbled. He had said that because he didn't want the girls to worry, and because he didn't want to come off like he was making a fuss over nothing. But really, he was worried about Richard, desperate to know what was wrong with him… but with how he was behaving, depression was the only answer that made sense. It completely made sense. It was as if, now that the universe was safe, Richard lost all his motivation to do anything but lounge in bed. That was what Peter'd been going to explain to the ladies, before he thought better of it. Yeah, Peter was very worried. "D'ast me, of course he'll pull out of it," he told himself sternly. "He'll see that the galaxy needs a Nova." He sighed and picked up the communicator again.

"Okay… Silver Surfer, here we go." He dialed and connected.

"Who is calling me?" The cosmic-sounding voice of Norrin Radd rang clearly through the machine. It was a cool voice.

"Peter Quill," he replied. "You busy?"

"Yes," Norrin answered plainly. "My master's hunger had grown much since his imprisonment."

"Heard about that, news really spreads around!" Peter tried to sound vaguely disinterested. He didn't insist, however; he knew there was no good way _that_ could turn out. "Well then, can you at least keep him away from Tantus 4, in Kree Space? We're celebrating."

"I wouldn't lead him to the planet where you are." Norrin almost sounded hurt. "You helped save the universe."

"How sweet," Peter said, a little more dryly than he intended. He didn't mean to be rude, and he knew the Surfer was a _way_ better herald than there could easily be, as he avoided leading Galactus to highly populated worlds — but still, Peter hated Galactus and all the misery he caused. "Galactus helped save the universe too," he added, "but he's still not invited. Well, have fun serving him, Surfer. Seeya."

"Farewell," the Surfer replied quietly, sounding hurt for real now, and Peter disconnected. He paced around a few more times, then put his communicator away and left the room, running downstairs, and out to the patio.

The decorations were up now, from streamers to confetti to big bright balloons. Peter had specially ordered the balloons, and the big round colorful pockets of air really lived up to his dreams. Many guests were here already, most of whom he didn't know; news of the party had spread across Tantus 4, and these days, everyone loved Nova, invited or not. Richard hadn't left his hospital room, but folks had begged Peter to ask Rich to stay on as their protector. And personally, Peter didn't think that was a bad idea. It would give the guy something worthwhile to do right here, a way to feel productive and worthwhile without overly stressing himself out. But mostly, he thought Richard should rebuild the Nova Corps. He'd be happier, for one — he wouldn't be so alone then, right?

Gamora strode outside behind him, and he turned around to face her. She was wearing a long purple dress, contrasting perfectly against her deep green skin, with a low v-neck. The dress was form-fitting around her slender waist and toned thighs, probably making movement less-than-easy, Peter imagined, but there was no doubt that it elegantly showed off her voluptuous figure. A thin leather belt hung around her waist, somehow looking perfectly fitting there, with her longsword the Godslayer. Peter just stood for a moment, staring at her cleavage. Then he took a deep breath and looked up at her face. "Nice dress!"

Gamora remained smooth, and gave him a slight nod. "It's six hours past midday."

"Is it already?" Peter scratched the back of his head. "Well, everything's ready?" He looked around at the tables and streamers, and all the frigging people.

"There's not a soul here who doesn't love Nova," she pointed out, not even smiling.

"I'm sure Nova will like the dress too," Peter added.

Gamora pursed her lips slightly. "How's he healing up? I haven't seen him today."

Peter shrugged, trying his best to appear unconcerned. It wasn't easy. "I haven't seen him since I decided on throwing this party. I guess I should tell him it's time. Did you get the Guinness Extra Stout? It's his favorite beer."

Gamora raised her eyebrows cynically. "You know that? Is it a Terran beer?"

Peter smiled. "What else?"

"No, I didn't get it," she replied flatly and unapologetically.

Suddenly a thought struck Peter. "You think he can even enjoy beer, anyway? I mean, doesn't he have some sort of a super strong healing factor now? Do you think that effects it?" Gamora stared at him, not understanding, and Peter tried again. "Do you think he can get drunk?"

"Is that really the primary purpose of beer?" Gamora rolled her eyes sarcastically. "Then who even cares about the taste? But no, from what I understand, Rider has to consciously concentrate the Nova force into any wound he needs healed. If he wants to get drunk, he can get drunk."

"Sweet," Peter snapped his fingers. "Well, you got _something_ good, right?"

Gamora glanced at a table. "Many people were eager to. We'll have enough. You finished inviting all your acquaintances?"

"I invited _people_ ," Peter emphasized. "Firelord couldn't come, he sounded grumpy. Silver Surfer is too busy doing what he does. And I couldn't get in contact with Drax, or Cammi, for that matter. Not Kl'rt or Praxagora either." He sighed. "But it seems we'll have a fair crowd, anyhow, since a bunch of extra criminals are coming!"

"Did you invite his friends on Earth?" Gamora surprised him by asking.

Peter studied her for a moment. "I thought you weren't a fan of Earth."

Gamora shrugged coolly, though Peter thought he noticed her face take on a more vivid green. "Still," she said, "it's for Richard. I heard from an ex-prisoner called Mantis that you said he was feeling down, so…"

"So the prison raid _was_ successful? Great!" Peter changed the subject. Prison raid… not entirely an accurate term. Some of the invited guests had wanted to pay Kree off law to release various acquaintances of theirs to join in the celebration, and in the spirit of the party, Peter had done his best to provide. He'd already met a few of the cons, and they seemed nice enough. Though this 'Bug' character had kinda gotten under his skin.

"Peter," Gamora said, in that patronizing way that always got under his skin even more.

Peter sighed. "No, I didn't invite his Earth friends. I don't even know them, and if you're suggesting I invite his fellow New Soldiers (or whatever he mentioned his team was called) — or any superheroes, for that matter — think again. There's a Civil War going on there. While we were busy fighting for our lives and their lives and the universe, they were fighting amongst themselves like spoiled idiots. Don't get me wrong, I'm proud of my human side, but I know selfishness when I see it."

Gamora nodded. Her eyes betrayed little emotion, but he thought it might have been surprise he saw there. Even respect. Huh. "Fair enough. What about his family?"

Peter bit his lip. "Um… I don't know them either."

"I will look into that," Gamora turned away briskly. "You, get Rider."

"Okay." Peter sighed, rubbed his hands together, and headed back slowly towards the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, I don't know how Peter is calling the Surfer…


	3. Chapter 3

Peter's heart really wasn't in it. He loved parties, and he was determined to make this one awesome; only he didn't know if he could even do that, with poor Richard the way he was. He was almost _scared_ of facing Rich again, scared of what he might see, scared he might've gotten even worse now, scared of trying to convince him to please, please, not shut people out. For goodness sake, he was the last Nova. There was no time for personal issues! Richard had a heck ton of responsibilities piled up on him that seriously needed to be fulfilled.

But didn't also Star-Lord?

Screw it. Peter was trying. He'd been through a lot, too. He had nightmares about bugs, too. He was permanently messed up, too. He'd fought through this horrible horrible War, too! He missed Quasar too. So _what_ if he wasn't calling himself Star-Lord? Did that even matter? At least he was still doing things. At least he wasn't laying around uselessly in bed all day. At least he wasn't scaring the crap out of his friends.

_Flark it._

Of course it wasn't only the fate of the Nova Corps and Nova's subsequent duties that were getting to Peter. He was worried about his friend personally. A lot.

At that moment however, these worries were alleviated somewhat, as he felt a hand clasp his arm. "Peter?" Startled, he looked around. It was Phyla! She was dressed in her same red outfit she had worn in the War, with her long black cloak overtop. She pushed the hood down, revealing her short white haircut and her anxiously widened eyes.

"Hey!" Peter faced her. "Welcome to _le_ dance! Are you okay?"

Phyla nodded, glancing over her shoulder. Peter followed her gaze and saw Moondragon and Adam Warlock. The latter had a pouty expression and his arms were crossed, but he looked noticeably younger, and had a mildly sinister costume change. He was talking to Heather, who looked stunning in her form-fitted battle armor, even though Thanos had recently yanked off her ear, as Peter remembered with a wince. Her head must feel awfully lopsided now, with only one of her huge circular earrings, he mused. Heather seemed strained, but just then she glanced over at Peter and smiled, though she didn't come over.

Phyla looked back at Peter. "Adam isn't happy, that's all, or even very well. He had a seizure after he woke up, he tells us his memory is foggy, and he thinks he hears souls screaming in his head. I can tell he's in real pain. It amazed me how hard Heather worked to convince him to come here, though. They used to be teammates on a team to guard the Infinity Gems."

"Aw, well, don't be jealous!" Peter said sweetly, just partly to get on her nerves. "Heather loves you, not him. She does _not_ have a thing for the yellow ones."

"I have no doubt of her love for me," Phyla seemed annoyed. "In any case, Warlock seems to think _we_ woke him too early from that chrysalis today. Seems he was sleeping during the War, and his 'souls' are the many who died. But he brought us warp speed to get here. That was nice."

"It was!" Peter forced a smile. "Well hey, I was just about to go get Rich down for the party! Uh, you wanna come with me? I mean, would you mind at all?"

"Of course I will," Phyla raised her eyebrows, but smiled slightly. "Lead the way."

His heart feeling a little better now that he wasn't alone, Peter lead the way upstairs to the hospital ward. Being a celebrated hero, Nova had a whole room to himself — the perfect place for him to shut everything out and brood, Peter reflected. They reached the door, and he set his hand firmly on the handle.

Phyla put her hand overtop his.

He stopped for a moment, his heart doing a little flip in his chest, and stared at her. She gazed back for a moment, one eyebrow raised. Then she removed her hand. "Don't just open it," she explained in a whisper. "Richard prefers when people knock."

"People don't knock, though," Peter pointed out, starting to flush now. "He's used to it."

"But isn't this a special party for him where he gets everything his way?" Phyla sighed playfully at Peter, and she knocked.

"He really doesn't, though," Peter muttered under his breath. There was no answer from inside. _Ignoring us_ , Peter thought. Surprise, surprise. Peter tried again to be annoyed to avoid being worried. It wasn't good, but it helped.

Well, depending on the definition of 'helped,' anyways. It at least helped his heart feel less like it was about to crumble into literal ashes.

"Richard?" Phyla called softly, and opened the door. They stepped in, closed the door behind them, and both approached the bed. Rich was entirely under the covers, but his shape was clearly discernible there. "Hey, Richie." She felt for his shoulder, then shook him softly.

Nova groaned. "If you got that from Peter, you can drop it. My name's not Richie." Peter felt a smile coming on, and actually had to stifle a chuckle. Probably wouldn't be appropriate right now.

"Richard," she corrected herself. "It's time for that party Peter planned, do you feel up to it?"

"Can I skip out?" Rich mumbled. "I'm not a kid."

"We know. That's why there's beer," Peter advertised enticingly as he could — which was a pretty enticing advertisement, according to his honest expertise.

"Why d'you think I care?" Richard asked, a little coldly.

Why would he care? Peter yanked the blanket entirely off of Richard so quickly nobody had time to resist it. "Look, if we're gonna talk, I don't wanna be talking to a pile of blankets, it doesn't suit you. Geez, Richard, did you kill Annihilus or not? Because right now you sure don't seem strong enough to kill a slug."

"Peter, I'm stronger than you possibly imagined, which might not be entirely a positive," Rich growled miserably, rolling over. "Makes sense. I really _realized_ it when I faced Annihilus. Sorry bruh." He pushed himself up into a sitting position, blinking open his eyes. "I feel good, alright? Real good. But I still feel like crap."

At first, Peter was speechless, and it seemed as though Phyla was too. Now that they could see him properly, Richard's eyes were… they were glowing, a pale yet blinding yellow, no visible irises or pupils whatsoever. It could vaguely be compared to the fluorescent eyes of, say, Adam Warlock, but this brightness went way way way farther than that. The closest thing Peter could think of was the right eye of Nathan Summers, a mutant also known as Cable back on Earth; but even that didn't match this now. Richard's eyes were so brilliant, and so cosmic, and so bittersweet in some strange way, it wasn't long before Peter had to avert his gaze.

Richard laughed dryly. "That ugly, am I?"

"You say you feel good and simultaneously like crap?" Peter relayed, now doubly spiked with concern, and Nova buried his face in his hands, blocking out the light. Thank God. Peter looked at him again, and saw that Phyla had put an arm comfortingly around his shoulders. Um, good initiative to the Kree?

"You're going to be be okay," Phyla said firmly. "Your spirit is strong, Nova. I think you need this party. It'll be good for you to relax."

"Have… have I changed?" Richard's voice sounded alarmed suddenly. "Am I _actually_ ugly?"

"No," she replied reassuringly. "No, you're still you, still the same Earther who became a Nova. It's just that your eyes are glowing. Can you control that at all?"

Richard swallowed, hard, and opened his eyes. They were normal now, with his normal brown irises.

"Bravo! How you feeling, man?" Peter asked. "Did Annihilus do something nasty to you?"

"Besides almost killing me?" Richard shook his head. "Nah, it's nothing. Just my power. It was never meant to be possessed by one guy, and turns out I'm just not as exceptional as we all thought. Charming doesn't cut it."

"Well, you're not doing _bad_ ," Peter forced a smile, though inside, fresh terror was building up in his chest. "I'm glad it's not _only_ depression. This can be fixed, soon as you find some new Novas to recruit."

Richard sighed. "There, you flat out said it. How many times do I have to tell you, I'm not depressed?!"

Peter slapped himself dramatically on the forehead. It probably seemed crude on the outside — depression actually truly sucked like a flarknard and he knew it— but he'd rather seem like he was trivializing serious matters than go on about how worried he was for Rich, at the moment. "Oops, you got me," he shrugged. "Seriously though, it looks like, now that the obvious _buggy_ crisis is gone, you've had time to think, and so you're struggling to come to terms with your new power, and that's at least not left you in the happiest mood, huh? Well, solution is, come to the party! And then everything will look better in the morning." He tried to believe his own words could be true. It had to be. Rich was too stressed out, is all. They'd been through a dark time, things were different now. But life rolled on.

Richard glared at him with disgust, and that hurt Peter. "I'd rather not," he said, burying his hands back in his hands. "Go away."

"Richard, people are counting on you," Phyla said gently. "The people of the universe love you now, to be honest, and they want to celebrate with you. You sure you won't come?"

Richard hesitated. "This a real big party?"

"Flark yeah," answered Peter. "I mean, not people-of-the-universe big on such short notice, but pretty big!"

"You think you can come for a bit, even just to make an appearance?" Phyla suggested in a gentle tone.

Richard hesitated. Then he nodded. "Whatever."

"How about you go shower, then," she said gently. She stood up and held out her hand to him. Richard took it, firmly, and got to his feet. Then he walked wordlessly into the bathroom and closed the door. After half a minute, they heard water running.

"Das't," Peter whistled, staring at the door. "I never knew you could be motherly. Moondragon been teaching you the art of psychic suggestion, is that it?"

"No." Phyla raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm not telepathic. I'm just moderately thoughtful. And of course I can be motherly, I _am_ a lady."

"Hey," Peter scowled, and neither of them spoke again till Nova came out, about fifteen minutes later. His hair was clean, wet, and tousled; and a white towel was wrapped around his waist; and the hospital gown was in his hand. But his eyes were closed.

"Phyla?" he called.

"I'm here!" Phyla scrambled to her feet and took his hand a bit awkwardly. It wasn't far from his incredibly well-defined abs. Those muscles had to be mouthwatering even to a lesbian, Peter figured. At least, he knew it was for _him_.

"Why do you like her better than me now?" Peter grumbled at the dude in the towel.

Richard opened his eyes hesitantly to roll them at him (less hesitantly), and their appearance was normal. He sat down on the bed. "Anybody got my clothes?"

Peter reached under the bed and pulled out the case of clothes, and opened it up. "Here ya go."

"Oh thanks!" Richard's face lit up. "And there's my helmet! How did I not know where that was? The cons of being unconscious." He snatched it up, unfolded it, and placed it on his head, marking him to all knowledgable eyes as a Nova centurion. Then he got out and put on the rest of the uniform to complete the look.

"I'll comb your hair," Phyla offered.

Nova blushed. "And do my nails. Yeah, I'm fine, I'm not a kid. Thanks, though. For treating me like one. And Peter — don't worry, I still love you. Even if you're an ass."

Peter beamed. "Awesome, because you'll be seeing a lot of me these next hours. Gamora, too. Ready to party?"

He shrugged. "Not really, but I feel less gross now. And I guess you're right… even doing something as little as showering does make me feel better. Flark, that sounded corny."

"Everything's connected," Peter said proudly, and patted him on the back. "C'mon, Richie, this is gonna be a blast. I promise."


	4. Chapter 4

Gamora had gotten into a conversation with Adam. She didn't know how it had happened exactly, but he and Heather had walked over towards her and Heather was gone somewhere else now and it was just her and Adam, making small talk — definitely not Gamora's specialty. The two of them had dated once, which came to her mind suddenly as they talked, but she brushed it away. It didn't exactly make her feel awkward now. But he sure seemed agitated. Suddenly he mentioned, "Doesn't this party have a host, or not? Where is Star-Lord?"

"He doesn't like to be called that," Gamora told him, glancing over her shoulder. "Last I saw, he went off to get Nova."

"How is Richard?" Adam asked. "Is he really depressed?"

Gamora shrugged. "Peter doesn't say things lightly. No, I take that back. Quill says many things lightly, all the time; but not this. He's too optimistic. Still, I hate that this is getting to be a gossip topic. I wish the two of them would just show up." She sighed, and at that moment, Heather came back. "Gamora!" she smiled, almost uncharacteristically. "I located them."

"Who?" Gamora stared at her, feeling confused. She hadn't asked Heather to look for anyone.

"Oh, I saw your thoughts," Heather explained, half apologetically. "I found Rider's family. Do you want to fetch them?"

Gamora shrugged, not sure whether to be annoyed. "Rather late, now." But she was staring directly at Warlock. He would get it.

Adam lowered his eyes to the ground, then looked up again. "What is it you wish to _request_ of me in my generosity to do?" Well somebody felt underappreciated.

"How about I come with you," Gamora suggested without even a smile. It wasn't necessary. Adam knew her well enough for that. "Heather, project the exact coordinates into our minds."

Heather nodded, and in an instant, they all knew exactly where on Earth Richard's parents lived.

"Thanks," Gamora flashed a smile, and wrapped her arms around Adam's muscular body. "Here we go." He nodded, and like a cannonball, took off with a blast into the sky.

Adam was an extremely fast flyer. When in a planet's atmosphere, he broke the sound barrier, only holding himself back to prevent himself from tearing the world apart. In the void of space, however, he zoomed faster than the speed of light. Gamora blinked a few times, dismissing what strange things this did to her vision. She was fine physically, though; her adoptive father Thanos had modified her body, so it could withstand it. She was almost disappointed, minutes later, when they reached their destination. The flight had been fun. They dove through the atmosphere, and landed on the ground. Adam set her down, and she let go of his waist.

They were standing on a Terran residential road, with painted wooden houses lining both sides. Vehicles were parked in front of some of them, and Adam pointed at the house nearest them. "There it is."

Gamora nodded, frowning. "To think a Nova actually lived in this place. Doesn't surprise me. I don't much care for Earth," she explained.

"I'm from here," Adam commented distantly. "I have a prejudice against this world too, unfair though it is, and I've tried to overcome it. You know I was created by Terran scientists as a genetic experiment, to be a creature far more powerful than they. The problem with that was how easily I could escape, how easily I could destroy them. At the time I never wanted to return." He sighed very softly. Monologue. It was pretty trademark of him. "But that was only to the site of my dead creators. I'm fine with returning to this world."

"I've known you a long time, Adam." Gamora at last allowed a smile at him. "Since not very long after you were born, I think. I don't consider you a Terran."

"That's a compliment, I take it?" Adam chuckled, then held up his hand. "Shh, Gamora. Something's approaching."

She froze, looking around. How had she, such a dangerous assassin, possibly been distracted? But it was too late. They were surrounded by what looked like a fleet flying vehicles of all different sizes, large and small, with many flashing lights that she imagined would be much more dramatic if it was dark here. She drew her sword Godslayer, though she knew it couldn't possibly be of much use in this situation. "You see, this is why I don't like Earth," she explained casually, sizing up her opponents with her eyes. Humans were a bunch of suspicious idiots who turned their primitive guns on anything they didn't recognize.

"Fair reason." Adam stood with his back to her, lifting his hands, which sizzled and glowed with raw quantum energy. Then he lowered them. "No. This isn't the right way to be dealing with these people. One moment, Gamora." He levitated up into the air, and Gamora lowered her sword to watch him.

 _Adam, you better not be doing anything stupid_ , she thought.

He stopped at the average level of the airships, turning to gaze at them each in turn. "I am Adam Warlock," he spoke in a clear and authoritative voice. "This is my friend Gamora. We come in peace from beyond your star system, and I demand to speak to your leader."

The lights seemed a bit less flashy now, and a door opened. A man flew out, suited in spectacularly red and gold armor. Gamora sucked in a breath. She recognized him; this was Tony Stark, also known as Iron Man; a rich human, an Avenger with an ego the size of, well, Ego (the living planet). In spite of this, she knew he was a good man. More or less. He stopped in mid-air, levitating in front of Adam. "Demand granted, Warlock." His voice sounded almost robotic through the armor, but even that couldn't hide the utter coolness he addressed them with. "Lucky for you, the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. was making his rounds with the team tonight. Or, y'know, with the armada. The director, being me, obviously."

Adam paused. "S.H.I.E.L.D. is an intelligence agency, correct?"

"Yup," Iron Man affirmed. "And you. Adam Magus, the man with the God complex even bigger than mine. Of Infinity Gauntlet fame, of Soul Gem fame, and of creepy abductor Goddess fame, I remember. What do you want?"

"For you to not to talk down to me. It is obvious you are aware of my legacy, so call me Adam _Warlock_ ," he glowered, not loosing his pride. "Also, to speak with the family of Richard Rider. We have no interest in S.H.I.E.L.D.."

"Adam, Iron Man!" Gamora shouted up, impatient; but she only let poison show on her face. "You're making a scene. If the two of you must keep talking, you must come down here. And call off your goonies, Iron Man. It does not make you any more of a man to have other Earthers protecting you."

Iron Man put a metal glove to where his ear must be, as if giving orders. Every ship but one turned and flew away, and Tony dropped down to land gracefully in the street. Adam landed beside him.

"Now Warlock." Iron Man touched the golden man's arm briefly. "I'm sorry — please tell me, what happened to Nova?"

Gamora answered for him in an aloof tone. "He's fine. Well, he checked Earth transmissions a while ago, and that disappointed him some. Apparently, he thought better of you."

"Wait, wait, but I…" Initially Tony sounded very upset, but then he trailed off. "That _wasn't_ my fault. It was certain dissenters. It didn't end well for them though." He ended abruptly.

"We're not interested in the affairs of Earth," Adam said. "Nova's heart is deeply heavy due to other matters, so we came to ask his family if they wanted to come see him. But these past few months, he fought bravely, just as you did…"

Gamora finished, "…Except he was fighting for the survival of our universe, leading the force against an Annihilation Wave from the Negative Zone. And just so you are informed, he killed Annihilus. You might want to tell Reed Richards that, too."

"Wait something's up with the Negative Zone?" Tony sounded incredulous. "The Negative Zone's what you said?"

"Yes," Adam replied, with a nod.

"Oh. Oh. Okay. Cool. I gotta go. I'll leave you guys alone. Good luck. Give Nova all my love, tell him to drop by sometime. See ya." Iron Man turned, and launched into the sky. The mini airship followed.

Gamora and Adam exchanged glances. "Is it only me," Gamora inquired, "or did he look like he has a suspicious interest in the Negative Zone?"

Adam gave her a sideways look. "You think we should 'righteously' investigate?"

Gamora hesitated, then shook her head. She didn't want to waste any more time here than she had to. "No. Let's just get Nova's family and leave." They walked up to the house together, and knocked on the door.

It was about a minute before somebody answered. The doorknob turned and opened wide, to reveal a middle-aged man. He had brown hair, greying at the roots, and rectangular glasses. The moment he saw them, his eyes widened behind his spectacles. Then he grabbed a primitive Earth handgun from what looked like the shoe closet, and pointed it at them. "Stay where you are!" he shouted in a rough voice, which sounded a mix between fear and anger. "You've come for Richard, haven't you? Well, I don't know where he is, and if I did, I wouldn't tell you."

Gamora didn't even reach for her sword, and Adam didn't blink beside her. "No," she corrected calmly. "We're friends of Richard's. We thought you might want to know that he saved the universe, and we're holding celebration tonight."

"Charles?" a lady's voice gasped, and they saw a woman in a red sweater approaching behind him.

"It's okay, honey." Charles lowered his gun cautiously, and took a step back from the door, though his face didn't look any more trusting. "They're… friends… of Richard."

Gamora and Adam exchanged glances, then stepped inside. "Thanks." Gamora tossed her dark green hair, then came into what looked like the living room and sat down. "There's something else. We need to talk."

The two humans exchanged glances, and came to sit on the opposite couch. Adam sat down and leaned back beside Gamora. "Well," Gamora began, "Nova has been having some internal problems."

"What's wrong with Nova?" a voice said suddenly. They looked around in surprise. A teenage boy was standing in the hall. He looked almost like a younger version of Richard, only he had a longer nose, white glasses, and his brown hair was a little bit better groomed. He stepped forwards to stand closer to them. "How's my brother?"

"Oh." Gamora looked him up and down. "What is your name?"

"Robbie… Robert," he replied.

"I am Gamora," she said.

Adam nodded. "The most dangerous woman in the universe. I am Adam Warlock." The very way he said it seemed to carry power.

"Um, I'm Charles Rider and this is my wife Gloria," Nova's father said hurriedly.

"Now that we've all introduced ourselves, we can talk properly," said Adam. "To answer your question, Robert, Richard is now the last of the Nova Corps. Xandar was destroyed by an army from the Negative Zone. Richard lead the charge and in the end killed their leader, but he's been having trouble dealing now in the aftermath."

Gloria gasped, one hand to her mouth. "He killed somebody?"

Gamora gave her a sideways glance. Stupid wench. "It's not like it was his first time. But your son is an honorable man. I told you, he saved the universe."

"Only now he's depressed," Adam put in.

Gamora sighed. "Yes, that's what our friend Quill thinks. He's not a medic, by the way, so take it with what it's worth."

Robbie placed his hands on the side of the couch. His eyes looked extremely anxious. "How bad is he?"

"He wouldn't get out of bed," Gamora admitted. "Quill's organized this party in an effort to lighten his mood. Keep in mind, though, Nova was injured pretty badly during his fight with Annihilus."

Charles shut his eyes for a moment. "I knew he should never have gotten caught up in all this." He opened them. "He kept it secret for the first year or so, you know how kids are. And then he never listened to me!"

Adam stared at the ceiling with a bored look on his face as Charles talked about 'kids.' Gamora remembered that Richard, and even Robert here, were considerably older than he technically was. She supposed it was mostly that Adam just didn't know what it was like to have a father. She barely remembered having a real one herself — Thanos didn't count.

Gamora cleared her throat. "If he had not been a Nova, you would not be alive today."

"Still," Charles sighed wistfully. "I suppose it's all my fault. I should've raised him better. Shouldn't have let him grow up to be a ruffian. But I digress."

"You digress too far," Gamora spoke up harshly. "Nova is not a ruffian."

Charles and Gloria exchanged glances, as if they knew well that he was, but didn't want to repeat it in front of these aliens. "Right."

"Can you get him home?" Charles asked.

"Yes, he needs to be with us," Gloria agreed.

"You don't understand," Gamora fixed her with an intense stare. "If we send him home to Earth, he will think we have given up on him, or that we don't care." Oh das't, she was sounding sentimental as hell. That wasn't right. That wasn't who she was. But she _did_ care about Richard. She didn't even know if she loved him, she probably didn't, but she would at least prefer the best for him. And Gamora was no liar (well, generally).

"Does he hate us?" Robert said quietly, and both offworlders shook their heads instantly.

Adam smiled a little forcefully. "Richard is an absolute patriot for his planet. He just has greater responsibilities than ever in space, being the last Nova."

"But why can't he quit?" Charles seemed genuinely confused. "If the rest are all gone, there's nothing to keep him there."

"The galaxy needs Nova, now more than ever," Gamora said firmly to the selfish bastard. "He's not leaving."

"Can he at least take a leave of absence?" asked Gloria.

"That's what he's doing," Gamora replied calmly. "But we will not send him back to Earth. Besides, I told you, he won't get out of bed."

"That is why we're inviting you to Tantus 4," explained Adam.

"To… a pirates victory party?" Charles said slowly.

"And to see your son," Gamora added frostily. "But no, since you neglected to listen, I repeat he is not a pirate, he is an officer of the law."

Charles and Gloria exchanged glances again, but it was Robert who spoke. "No question about it. Is your ship outside?"

"Robbie!" Gloria cried, at the same time as Charles shouted, "Not you too!"

"Dad, Mom, I'm not going off to be a 'space ruffian'." He made air quotes with his fingers. "I'm going to look out for my big brother."

"But you're way too young," Charles protested.

"He is not," put in Gamora icily. "Younger boys than him fought and died in the Annihilation War only days ago."

"But," Adam added instantly, "the war is over now. We will keep him safe, I promise."

"They're Richard's friends," Robbie pleaded. "They'll look out for me. Besides, I'm going to be working at Project Pegasus soon, you're gonna have to get used to me being involved in stuff. Aren't you coming?"

They exchanged glances. "Look…" Gloria pronounced. "Your father and I love Richard very much, but you know we can't leave our jobs for as long as it might take to help him get well…"

Robbie shut his eyes and shook his head, as if trying to block everything out. "I'm sorry, Mom. I understand. But I have to go now." He leaned down to hug her, but both his parents stood up and embraced him tightly.

"Stay on the right path, Robbie," Charles said. "We love you."

"I'm not exactly Nova material, anyway," Robbie raised his eyebrows shakily, then took a step back.

"That's not a bad thing," Gloria said, though from Robert's expression, it seemed to crush him. "Love you, sweetheart. Be back soon."

"Uh-huh. I will." Robbie looked at Gamora, his face solemn as stone. "One second." He ran down the hall into a room, and was back a few minutes later with a backpack. "I always keep this packed… just in case something cool happens." He put it on his back, and followed them outside.

"Here." Adam placed a device on the boy's wrist, which instantly expanded to envelop it. "This'll protect you from the effects of the void."

Robbie looked around. "You don't have a ship?"

Adam smiled. "I fly myself. Hold on."

Gamora only held onto Adam's arm this time, so Robbie could grab onto his other arm. "How does it work?" He sounded very interested. "What propels you through space? Is it photons like Captain Marvel? And how are you protected from the vacuum? I don't see a device like this on your wrist. Is your density very great? Are you — ahhh!"

Adam shot up into the air. At first Robbie shrieked. Then he was laughing like a maniac. And they soared, through the Milky Way Galaxy.


	5. Chapter 5

Gamora was watching Robbie as they flew. She barely knew him of course, but already he seemed a lot like his older brother, and that wasn't entirely a bad thing. He would make a good Nova recruit, if Richard wanted him on. She smiled ironically, remembering the boy's reassurance to his dad that he was "not exactly Nova material." Well, she wasn't really sure she liked Nova's parents. Ruffian indeed!

They landed square on target, right in the middle of the party. Not to be cheesy, but it was truly like entering another world. The party was really going on now, and it was crowded. Multi-colored disco lights were flashing around everywhere from stands. Music blasted from speakers — it sounded like Earth music, more specifically, the kind of music Peter listened to — and streamers were getting ripped up by the sweaty people. And sweaty, meaning, many of them were dancing pretty vigorously. Their ages seemed to range from infancy to ancient, which didn't seem appropriate for this type of gathering — and there was lots of beer, more than Gamora remembered there being when she'd left, that really could've been more carefully watched (or, y'know, watched at all by anyone who cared). There was also lots of food, including ethnic food from every corner of the galactic cluster.

"Holy crap, that was awesome!" Robbie shouted over the noise, and Gamora saw that he was still gripping onto Adam's arm. "This place is awesome!"

"Quill is a party boy!" Gamora loudly explained to him.

"Where's Rich?" Robbie shouted.

"His room's this way!" Gamora shouted back, and started to lead him to the door.

"Hey!" At that moment they heard Heather, who promptly started making her way towards them. "Richard got up!"

"Yes!" Robbie pumped his fist in the air triumphantly, and he looked relieved. "I'm his brother," he added.

"I'm a friend of his," said Heather. She wasn't shouting, but she was somehow using her telepathy to be sure they all could understand what she was saying. _Lucky_ , thought Gamora. "Name's Moondragon," she added. "I'm glad you're here. C'mon!"

Robbie and Gamora began to follow her, but Adam stopped to tap her on the shoulder. She paused, and he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "I'm leaving. I'll be back."

"Sure," she said, not bothering to question him. Since they weren't a couple anymore, she didn't really feel it her responsibility. She went on, following Robbie follow Heather.

They stopped at a very alcoholic table thick with bottles and cans and kegs, and at first all Gamora could see was a bunch of aliens. Then Heather pointed them out, winked, turned around, and walked away towards Phyla on the dance floor. Nova and Peter were leaning against the table, drinking beers and giggling together like a pair of teenage girls. Gamora rolled her eyes, and cleared her throat. "Richard, I see you're feeling better!" she called, making her voice as loud as she could.

That caught both the men's attentions, and Nova grinned at her. "Gamora!" he yipped, putting his glass down and walking over to her. After a couple steps he trod on his own foot, hopped, and finished his way to her. "You look gorgeous," he smiled, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her full on the mouth, the red star on his Nova helmet slamming hard into her nose. She kissed back, but pushed him ungently away after about a second. She studied him briefly. He was smiling humungously, and rocking back and forth, and his clearness of speech was just slightly obscured. Yeah, he was very obviously very tipsy, but not really drunk.

"I knew you'd like her dress!" Peter whistled.

"Rich!" Robbie cried out, and the older brother's attention left Gamora instantly.

"Robbie?" Richard's eyes widened, as if he wasn't quite sure what he was seeing. "Either I'm trippin', and way more drunk than I thought I was, or…"

"Nah," Peter butted in brightly. "I invited your family. Well, Gamora invited your family. Is this your… hm, brother?"

"Hell yeah," Richard replied jovially, and threw his arms around Robbie. "It's so good to see you! I've missed you! How've you been?"

Robert shrugged. "Same old, same old. How about you? Your friends told me you saved the universe!"

Richard grinned broader. "It was all of us together."

"But ya did kill Annihilus!" Peter pointed out, pouring himself another mug. "Well, I mean, Phyla and me did a little, but you did the plain old killing part."

"Turned him inside out," Nova confirmed, and suddenly he looked away. Then he gazed back at his brother gleamingly. "How're my team, the New Warriors?" he asked. "They still doing the reality show? I heard bout the Superhuman Civil War thing, but I can't say I got the details as to whether that would outlaw superhero shows."

"Um." Robert swallowed, hard, and Gamora could tell he really didn't want to answer that question.

"What happened?" Nova shouted now, more than a little harshly, and Robbie winced. Then, his eyes widened. Gamora wondered whether she should intervene, or just continue to take advantage of the fact that Richard had seemingly forgotten about her. Richard too obviously considered her his girlfriend, but she'd found she didn't much like how clingy he was.

"Richie, your eyes are glowing," Robert commented, an intrigued expression on his face.

"Ooh, ooh there, Bucket-head." Peter put a hand firmly on his shoulder, and yanked him away. Richard looked stunned, but Peter shoved another beer into his hand. "Calm it." He paused. "Now, bout your kid brother callin' you Richie, too…"

" _Oh_." Gamora spoke loudly without shouting, as suddenly she realized the connection. "Peter Quill, you are a manipulative little das't. I see what all this is, you're trying to get him drunk."

"Hey!" Peter and Richard shouted at the same time.

"He needs ta feel better!" Peter protested.

"Yeah!" Richard agreed, taking a sip of beer. "I mean, no. I mean, he told me, he said some heavy drinkin' was the best thing to cheer me up. Not that I was depressed or anything, but…" He trailed off, gulping the rest of his beer down his throat.

"Obviously ya don't know your boyfriend very well, Gamora," Peter observed. "He's a happy drunk, when ya can get 'im in that state."

"I think your girl is right, Rich," Robert said anxiously. "I mean, drinking is fun, but if you're using it so you don't have to think about your problems—"

"D'you want a beer, Robbie?" Peter interrupted. "Y'see, I made this party, so I make the rules, an' there's no age restriction. Drinking age restrictions are stupid, an' no one even follows them anyways."

"Um…" Robert hesitated, as if wondering whether it would be setting a bad example for his older brother.

"Here…" Peter examined the various beers, and then poured one and gave him a glass. "This one's r'lly good. I'm picking higher alcohol content for your bro, but you deserve only the best tastes. That beer is only brewed in the rings of Gathrym. It's a delicacy. An' pretty dark." He grinned and took a sip of his own beer. "I'm havin' a mix, 'cuz I drink whatever the flark I want."

Robbie accepted the glass and took a sip. For a moment his expression was unreadable. Then he smiled pleasantly. "I like it!"

"Bingo!" Peter beamed.

Gamora rolled her eyes, irritated at everything in general, and decided to set a good example for the, by drinking responsibly. She poured herself a glass of that same beer, and took a small sip. It really was good, but she didn't smile.

Nova shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Lighten up, Gamora! It's not like I do this ev'ry day. Or, like, ever. C'mon, baby, why you gotta be so stone-cold all the time?"

"I was raised by Thanos," Gamora replied in a steely voice. "That is why."

Richard pursed his lips. "Sorry I asked."

"I'll let it slide," she allowed, though she didn't soften her voice.

"Thanks babe!" Richard tried to smooch her again, surprising her, and she instantly pushed him away this time. He tasted like alcohol.

"Peter." She was exasperated. "I think you should reconsider your course of action here."

"Hey!" Richard called. "Pete's not doin' nothing. He's not forcing me to drink. I'm just a collage aged Earther and that's how we roll." He gulped down another glass.

"Geez," Robert said. "Please take it easy, Rich."

"I am," Richard assured him. "I wouldn't let ya down, Robbie, not again. I'm being a responsible older brother this time."

"Thanks." Robert paused, as if he was looking for something better to say. "Do you wanna, like, instead of keeping drinking, go dance with your green girl?"

"In his condition? I have standards," Gamora answered for him calmly. Rich and Peter were too quickly getting drunker, and basically not doing nothing else. Richard looked at Robert and shrugged.

"Green girl says no. Oh look, there's Ronan!" He was suddenly distracted, and he waved into the crowd. "Heyyy, Ronan!"

Ronan was wandering through the party, his blue skin shining with sweat, wearing his noble Kree garb, which was the color green. He didn't seem to hear Nova, or at least he pretended not to. He kept walking, then stopped to talk with another blue Kree.

"Aww, wish I coulda introduced ya," Rich cried out, as if it was now impossible. "Ronan's _famous_."

"I thought he was a bad guy," Robbie said, his eyes wide. Probably Ronan had tried to conquer Earth before, Gamora figured. He was the sort.

Richard shrugged. "Star-Lord invited him. And he helped fight for the universe the other day, so he's alright in my book."

"Yessh," Peter slurred. "He offered to make Nova an honor'y Kree. Like, actually. That never happens. Ronan really likes your big bro. Everybody likes Richie nowadays." He hesitated. "Didja call me Star-Lord?"

Richard nodded. "Y'know how I feel about that, Pete."

"An' y'know how I feel!" Peter cried, his mood suddenly changed. "I killed three hundr'd fifty thousand innocent people, Rich! I'm not worthy a that title anymore! I'm jus' not the Star-Lord anymore. The _end_."

"Who needs to calm down now?" Richard shook his head. "This's a party! I've got a world a das't to cry about too, and I'm not! Stop makin' such a ruckus!"

"Fine!" Peter glared, and stormed away several yards before running into a red Saakaran girl who Gamora certainly didn't know, and she could bet he wasn't so familiar with either. "I'm Star-Lord. Dance with me," he said, a moody expression on his face. "If ya want?" he added hopefully. Wow, some opener.

The girl's face lit up like it was Christmas, and she caught him when he stumbled a second later. They walked to the dance floor, Peter apparently leaning on her heavily. Gamora returned her attention to the Rider boys.

"So Mom and Dad di'n't come?" Nova was asking.

Robbie shook his head. "Don't worry. No chance of them busting this." He paused, studying the disappointed expression on Rich's face. "Uh, did you actually want them you see you wasted like this?"

"No," Richard grimaced, sipping at his beer. "Just, figures they wouldn't be here. They hate me." Oh great, Gamora was sensing family drama coming up.

"They love you!" Robbie shouted, with more force than Gamora had expected to hear out of him. "Our parents practically worship you, Rich. Sure, Dad sometimes has trouble dealing with your superhero career, but that's 'cuz he's not perfect and they both worry about you constantly. It's blatantly obvious that they love you. Rich, you can't really think that, do you? When you're not drunk?"

Richard shrugged. "I can't… I mean… it's just… you've always been their, their dream son… oh, whatever! You got any updates on the New Warriors?" He blinked, sitting himself heavily on the table.

"Forget the New Warriors!" Robbie cried. "You can't go thinking I'm their 'dream son,' that's ridiculous. And you can't go thinking they don't love _you_! That's just plain messed up."

"Hey," Rich said softly, getting down to wrap his arms around his brother. "I know you love me, Rob. An' I don't deserve it, but you're jus'… you're jus'… great." He buried his head in his brother's chest, and Robbie patted him very awkwardly on the head. Richard belched. "You can't imagine how happy I am you're here to share this celebration with me." He stepped back, wobbling, and then shot up into the sky like a rocket, leaving a dazzling trail of light in his wake. He shouted for joy, and Gamora could see him making rounds above the party, soaring higher and lower, but staying in the atmosphere and in sight. Well, at least that family drama was over. Sheesh. Brothers were crazy.

Presently Robbie spoke. "So you and Richard are together?"

"You talk to him about that," Gamora sighed.

"Oh, okay, totally." Robbie nodded, then took an embarrassed sip of his beer.

"I hope he's sane in the morning," Gamora muttered, closing her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I copy and paste this story whats going thru my head now is Queen Bee and Jayyy...  
>  _I've been drinking, I've been drinking,_  
>  I get filthy when that liquor get into me,  
> I've been thinking, I've been thinking,  
> Why can't I keep my fingers off it, baby?  
> I want you, naaanaaa  
> Why can't I keep my fingers off it, baby?  
> I want you, naaanaa


	6. Chapter 6

Richard zoomed through the sky, widening his eyes as he watched the disco lights all around him. It seemed that way, at least, but his vision wasn't exactly the clearest after all that beer. He knew they were probably below him, of course. Unless Peter had went extremely over-the-top with this party. That would be cool. He had seen many things greater than this, but still, he could never get bored of flying.

Presently he heard a voice in his head. It sounded kinda robotic, but kinda organic; an unusual but somehow not uncanny mix, and it did express emotion. [ **Richard** ] it said in a patronizing voice.

"Dad?" Rich replied automatically, starting to feel bleary.

[I am the **Xandarian Worldmind** ] it corrected firmly. [You allowed me to **download** myself into your mind, to preserve the **knowledge** and **culture** of **Xandar**.]

"Did… oh, right," Richard agreed. He remembered it vaguely. "Whatcha wan' now?"

[Your blood **alcohol** level is **0.87%** ] the Worldmind informed him. [You need to **land** and allow yourself to get **sober**.]

"Ohhh," Richard understood. "Well, I'm not gettin' sober tonight. Gon' take a while to get this outta my system. Text Pete 'thank you.'" He giggled. Peter was really a cool guy.

[You need to **land**.] The Worldmind dismissed his request, sounding very exasperated now.

"I'll be fine!" Rich insisted, doing another flip to show how agile he still was. He didn't think he was very high up.

[ **Richard** ] the Worldmind said again, now slowly as if speaking to an obstinate child. [The **best** course of action for your overall **health** would be first to **land** , then purge the **alcohol** from your **system** —]

"Wait, ya want me to upchuck the shit?" Richard interrupted.

[ **No** ] the Worldmind sighed, [though you **might** on your **own** , if you don't stop **twirling**. The **Nova Force** has the power to make you speedily sober, if you **concentrate** it. **Then** , you must **rest**.]

"Concentrate it?" Rich laughed. "You ser'sly think I can do that now? Concentrate?" He laughed harder. "What didja say the alcohol level in my blood was ag'in?"

[ **0.87%** ] the Worldmind replied. [Then, **Richard** , you should simply **land** and allow **time** to take its course and sober you up for the morning.]

"Are ya gonna fine me?" Richard suddenly thought of the possibility. "Are you just an even _more_ extreme party pooper than I thought, or is there some krutacking law against flyin' drunk? Even without any ship?"

The Worldmind hesitated. Then he said, [ **Yes** , Richard; and as the **last Nova** , it would be **obscene** if you broke the law.]

"Das't," Rich muttered. "'Kay then. I'm gonna check on Star-Lord. I think I think he might be mad at me…" He flipped over and landed feet-first on the ground in the party, then wobbled and fell into the arms of somebody. He blinked up at them, and blue green swirled before his eyes. He blinked harder, and the shapes came together a little bit more. "Ronan?" he mumbled.

"Nova?" It certainly was Ronan the Accuser! And he sounded concerned. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah…" Richard slurred, struggling to his feet. "Anticlimactic landing, ain't that? They suck, Ronan, ser'sly."

Ronan fixed him with a hard stare, a very different look now. "You're drunk, aren't you."

"Kinda," Richard laughed. "Blame Quill, though. An' I'm not depressed! Whatever he might tell you." He paused. "But I am sad. Ronan, I'm really, really sad. I hate being the last Nova. Why the flark did Annihilus kill them _all_? I hate him so bad!" Richard's emotions were all welling up in his chest, the nightmares, the demons, the fears, the memories, all his shit; and he had to share them with someone. Who better than Ronan? After all, according to Peter, he'd offered to make him an honorary Kree, which Richard had never even heard of before. That's how very rare an honor it was.

"Keep yourself together, Richard." It was the Worldmind again, but he ignored it.

"Ronan…" he continued, "the Nova Corps was so old, so much hist'ry, so much friends… an' I can't… I can't… I hate this responsibility! I should be out there now, policing the galaxy, righ' now! But I can't let myself even think about it. 'Cuz once I start goin', once I get back to fightin' the good fight, once I see all the evil ag'in, I won't be able to stop. I'll literally go insane, I swear to God. One man to save this entire region of the universe." He hiccuped. "I suppose that makes me lazy, don' it? Irresponsible?"

Ronan was staring at him with a new look of wonder. "Nova, we all lost loved ones in the war, but I agree, your burden is greater than many. I advise you continue on with this celebration, and think about this again later when you're sober." He paused. "Also, don't stress-drink. It's highly unbecoming of any Nova, let alone Nova Prime. Besides, it won't help in the long run."

"Oh…" Richard gazed at him, trying to comprehend his words. "'Kay, Ronan. You're my bes' friend in the whole multiverse." He started to hug him, but Ronan recoiled instantly. Richard hardly noticed.

"Couldja point me to the dance floor?" he requested. He still wanted to talk to Peter. Ronan gingerly took hold of his shoulders and turned him slightly. Sure enough, Rich saw Peter slow dancing — or at least, being half-carried along to music by a dancing partner. "Thanks!" Rich said brightly, and took a step. "Y'know, though, Ronan, one thing that's really gettin' to me. This Nova Force. It's sooo big, and I have it all. I think it's gon' kill me. I'm gon' explode, or loose control. I'm a bomb. I don't feel well."

He walked on, wobbling, right up to the couple, almost crashing into them. Peter straightened up. "Richie, whaddaya doin'? I'm actually trying to dance here, with this really smoking hot female, this, uh… I forgot your name." He told his partner apologetically. "Really hot though. Hotter than the freaking sun of this world or that world, this this that world!"

"Okay," she said, giggling abashedly. "Ah. I never imagined the legendary Star-Lord would be this… well…"

"Sexy?" Peter cut in. "Aww, you're too kind. And pretty fine-lookin' yourself, buttercup…" He ended off abruptly, leaning his upper torso over her arm, and retching. The girl let go, and Peter stumbled away, falling onto his hands and knees, his body heaving. Richard looked away from the sound of his friend throwing up violently and cursing between breaths.

"Uh…" The girl glanced around. "I'll get somebody." She fled the area, and other dancers around seemed to be doing the same. But it wasn't any huge deal. Not as if Peter was the first puker here.

"Pete," Nova whispered, sliding to his knees himself, and put a light hand on Peter's back. He was still heaving, but it was mostly just air now. "You're such a lightweight, aren'tcha?" Richard said lightly.

"Richie," Peter gasped, plopping down now. "That's… that's…" He coughed. "Didja just tell a joke?" he chuckled, then his eyelids flickered, and he collapsed on the floor.

The Worldmind spoke again at this inappropriate moment. [ **You** should really **follow ******his **example ******and get some sleep **yourself**.]

"Shuddup," Rich glared at the floor.

Presently the girl returned, sure enough, and Heather and Ronan were at her side. Ronan just seemed to be tagging along. "Disgusting," he muttered.

"Men," Heather sighed. She wrapped her arms under his armpits, and started dragging him across the floor, through the sweaty crowds. "If he'd been reasonable, he would've just made a quiet little celebration with close friends."

"I'll take him," Ronan offered stiffly. "You can clean up that disgusting mess." He lifted up Peter gingerly but easily in his arms, turned, and sauntered briskly away. Heather sighed.

Richard stood up, blinking. His head was spinning, and he couldn't think straight. He watched Peter's limp body getting taken away by Ronan the Accuser. He vaguely remembered being somewhat annoyed with Peter earlier. He blinked again.

_Did I do that?_

He couldn't remember. Why had Peter stormed away from him like that, before going to dance? He thought it'd been something he said, but his mind was fuzzy.

[ **Richard** , I sense **unease** in you} the Worldmind observed. [ **Peter Quill of Spartax** has apparently passed out from intoxication due to **alcohol**. It was his **own** doing, and he will **recover**.]

"Yeah…" Rich mumbled, still gazing in the direction Ronan had left. He couldn't see them anymore.

"What was that, Richard?" Heather was still there, standing tiredly with crossed arms, but not an unfriendly gaze.

"Nothin'," Richard replied, blinking again. A guilty feeling was rising in him, that couldn't be kept back. It was strange, though; mixed with fear and joy and anger and excitement. "I… I think imma fly ag'in," he stammered, but Heather's hand was firmly on his shoulder the moment the words were out of his mouth.

"Are you okay, Richard?" She really sounded concerned. "I don't mean to pry, but confused emotions are pouring off you in waves, and I can't ignore them. I can't even feel them clearly, either, because everything's so mixed up in your head right now, so… are you okay? Because what I _can_ see worries me. A lot."

Richard stared at her hand, barely paying attention to her words. "Stop it, Heather. I'm gonna fly." And with that, he shot straight up into space like the human rocket that he was, leaving her far behind. He closed his eyes, feeling the energy around him and surging inside of it, letting it go. He soared higher and higher, beyond the atmosphere of Tantus 4. He couldn't bear to think about the party anymore. He didn't want to think about the War. And above all, he definitely did not want to think about his duties as Nova. He just wanted to get away from everything, to be cosmic, to be one with the universe and equal to the universe.

[ **Richard** , can you **hear me**?] It was the Worldmind, and he realized he'd been blocking everything out.

"Yeah," he muttered. He wished he couldn't.

[You are expending **vast** amounts of **energy** ] the Worldmind informed him. [Your **uniform** can contain **vast** amounts, but your power is on a **cosmic level**.]

"I'm amazin'," Richard slurred. "Fine. But if I really was, the universe would be in a lot better state righ' now. I shouldn'ta been the last Nova. It shoulda been someone worthier." That was the cold truth of it. By rights, Richard should be dead. Stone cold dead. Now he had to save the Galaxy all by himself, and he didn't even know if he could do it.

[But it **is** you] the Worldmind began, but it wasn't given time to finish.

"Flark yes it's me!" Richard shouted suddenly. "It's me! I'm the last Nova!" He turned around and dived back down towards the planet, heading directly towards the party many miles below, the bright Nova glow shining wider around him. "I'm Nova, but there ain't no Nova Corps no more! Das't responsibilities! I can't do it! I won't let it take me over! I won't let it change me! Das't my friends! Das't Quill!" He thrust his fists before him, tightening them as if getting hold of his Nova Force. "I JUST WANT TO BE AWAY FROM IT ALL!" he screamed. And with that, he ejected all the energy he could from his body, in a freeing rush. There was brighter light than ever before. A rush of intense heat. Worldmind's warning scream. A feeling like a punch in the gut. A cold feeling of emptiness. And then everything went dark for Richard Rider.


	7. Chapter 7

Peter was woken up by a throbbing headache. At first he just wondered why he was so unlucky. Then he recognized it as a symptom from a hangover. "Oh right, the party," he remembered with a groan. He'd been drinking pretty heavily with Richard. He'd told himself it been only right to join in, if he wanted his friend to. Of course, it was extremely fun. Presumably he'd eventually passed out. Peter cracked open his eyes. Thankfully, the room was dark, so he opened them fully and swung his legs stiffly off the bed. Then he ran up to the hospital to see if he could get some painkillers.

The whole whole hospital was dark, and that confused Peter. Right now, it was still full of Annihilation veterans. The lights were never all off. Still, it was better on his eyes, and — having made himself familiar with this place — he somehow managed to find some headache medicine. He popped it in his mouth and swallowed, leaning his head over a sink to gulp down some water. His throat was dry. He knew he should stay and rehydrate more, but he just couldn't. He was too curious about the lights, and what it might mean. Overworked shutdown?

Brushing his fingers along the wall, Peter ran down the stairs and towards the door. The sky was a dull red, as if it was not quite sunrise, and it looked ominous. He pushed open the glass doors and stepped out onto the patio.

Everything was silent. The party was more than over, but it seemed to go beyond that… everything was dead. He couldn't see well in the dark, but smoke rose from trashy mounds. His heart started pounding. They had been attacked. The war hadn't been won after all.

"Quill!" A voice came suddenly from behind him. Peter whirled around, unarmed, but taking a fighting stance. He relaxed only slightly when he saw who it was.

"Ronan?" He frowned tensely. "What happened?"

Ronan looked out at the patio, then shook his head. "I don't know. I was inside, getting you settled. But it was loud, and it was bright. Almost like a meteor, but that is doubtful."

"Wait…" Peter stared at him. "You were looking after me?"

"It was preferable to cleaning up your vomit," Ronan replied coolly.

Peter sighed. "I don't really want to hear about it, bro, call me later." He choked suddenly, feeling broken. "Did anyone survive? Where's everyone who was too sick to leave the hospital?"

"They're here," Ronan assured him. "This is an old building, but it has good foundations — as any should expect of traditional Kree make. All the civilians are scared to leave their positions for the most part. Soldiers like us are mostly discussing the situation, in the absence of a visible enemy. The local authorities have forbidden anyone to enter the site of the incident, and elected to await council from the Supreme Intelligence before acting."

"Is…" Peter could barely get his next words out, terrified of the answer. "Is Richard alive?"

Ronan looked away, and Peter's heart plummeted like a stone. He felt faint. "Rider is missing in action," Ronan replied. "Moondragon told me… she informed me that he was flying at the time." He seemed unable to meet Peter's eyes, which was very unusual for Ronan, but that didn't matter.

"Heather survived?" Peter cried euphorically. It was as if his broken world had been put back together. If she was alright, many others might be!

"She psychically sensed what was coming, and yelled a warning beforehand," Ronan explained. "Thanks to her, we think just about everyone was likely able to evacuate into the hospital in time. That, and the fact that fireworks remained in the sky for almost a minute… as if our attacker was trying to give us time. He didn't want to kill any innocents." He paused, looking sad. But… that was good, right?

Peter nodded, bewildered, and turned away, opening the door and stepping inside. The moment he did, he was crashed into and enveloped in a bear hug. It was a good few seconds of hugging before he realized it was Phyla. She pulled back. "Peter!" she smiled. "Heather told me you were awake. Oh das't, Peter. Don't blame yourself, though, it wasn't your fault."

"It… what?" Peter glanced in Ronan's direction, but the accuser had gone. "What exactly happened?" Peter said in a low voice. Had he somehow actually contributed to this horror? Was that why Ronan'd had that distant expression on his face? How would Peter know, when he'd been so drunk? "What did I do?" he added brokenly.

"Oh, I assumed… I don't know what I assumed." Phyla turned and beckoned him down the hall. They walked along side-by-side. "You didn't do anything. It was Richard." She was starting to sound terribly broken, too. "I meant you might feel guilty because it was your idea to get him drunk, which is probably why this happened."

"Holy flark," Peter swore, his eyes wide. "What did Richie do?"

"He crashed the party, in the worst way possible," she replied darkly. "He exploded overhead. Heather sensed it coming in his mind, she told me later that his thoughts were screaming. There was lightning over our heads. Heather called people inside, thank heavens she's so amazing. But not everyone made it."

Peter swallowed. "Ronan told me he didn't know what it was."

"It was hard to tell," Phyla explained. "Heather only knew from his jumble of thoughts, and she only told me and Gamora. I assumed you'd be safe to tell, too, since you're such friends. It's probably best for the news not to be getting out." She placed a hand on a door handle and opened it. She and Peter came in, and Peter saw a small group of people clustered in this hospital room. Most of them looked scared.

"Quill!" Gamora stood up. Well, she didn't look scared.

"Hey," Peter acknowledged her. He'd noticed Heather sitting on the floor. A teen boy was in her arms, his head buried into her shoulder, and his long legs half-splayed out on the floor. Peter stared at him, sure he'd seen him, trying to place who he was. Then he remembered: this was Robert, Richard's brother, who had probably never left Earth in his life before this, and was getting the worst experience of it. Heather met Peter's eyes, and gave him a slight nod. What was with those ladies being so successfully motherly to the Rider brothers? No seriously, what was _with_ that?

Peter looked around at them. There were a couple little Kree kids, huddled together under a blanket with their eyes half-closed. His heart ached for them; at their age, they really hadn't needed this disaster, and he wondered where their parents were. Lots of helpless people, and some much-less-helpless people, but… "Where the flark is _Adam_?" he asked.

"He left the party before any of this happened," Gamora replied offhandedly.

"He's here," a young woman said suddenly. Oh, it was one of the jailbirds. Codename Mantis, that was the one. She had green skin and a pair of antennae that were receptors for her psychic ability. "He brought a friend," she added.

Heather frowned, squinting. "Pip the Troll," she muttered. "Fat lot of help he'll be."

Gamora rolled her eyes. "Him? Seriously? Of all the reasons to leave us for several hours."

Suddenly the door opened, and most of them looked over expectantly. But it was only a lean man in an oversized jacket. He had green skin and antennae like Mantis, and Peter recognized him as Bug, another one of the jailbirds at the party who he'd definitely never invited. "Heya y'all — tik! — I was looking for some company…" Bug said a little too brightly.

"Come in," welcomed Mantis, and he stepped in quickly, closing the door behind him.

"I had a look outside," he said presently, in the silence. "I didn't really go out there, what with the Kree law — tik! — but it looked pretty bad."

"We're aware," Gamora spoke quietly.

At that moment, the door opened again, and they looked expectantly again. This time, it _was_ Adam. He stood there in the doorway, looking straight ahead with his golden eyes gleaming, a body in his arms. Peter coughed in his throat, and he could practically feel the stares around him towards the door. He was staring too. The body was of Richard, still decked in his Nova uniform, only minus the helmet. His expression was blank and unconscious, and his head hung limply back over Adam's arm. Peter then noticed the familiar little figure of Pip, a curly-haired, pot-bellied, little troll, standing behind Adam, with the helmet of the Nova centurion in his arms.

Heather nudged the boy in her own arms, and he sat up slowly. Then he looked at Adam and gasped. "Rich!" he yelped.

"Indeed," said Adam, stepping inside and — seeing the beds occupied by huddling people — laid Richard out on the floor. He didn't move.

Robbie rushed then stumbled to his side, clasping his brother's hands in his own. "Richie!" he cried, gazing down at his face.

"He's alive," Adam offered. "I think he'll be okay."

Pip nodded casually. "Yeah, we found him, alive and whole, smack in the middle of the blast site. A blast site, seriously? In the middle of a party site? And it looks like the party's over, and we missed all the fun. Thanks a lot for the invite, Petey, by the way. Not."

"And this," Peter muttered, "is why I didn't invite you."

"Quiet," Heather murmured, approaching Richard. She stared intensely at his face, as if concentrating. Then she shrieked and collapsed.

"Heather!" Phyla screamed, running towards her and putting her arms around her. "Oh, Heather, please talk to me."

"I'm okay… but… his mind…" Heather mumbled feebly, but another voice then spoke much louder than hers.

"What happened?" Richard sounded absolutely lucid. His eyes had opened after Heather's efforts, and he was staring intently at the ceiling.

"Richie!" Peter and Robbie shouted at once. Peter scrambled to his side.

"Nova!" the Kree kids squealed.

Richard sat up and looked around, frowning.

"Hey Nova," Pip inquired, "if I put on your helmet, will I get the power of a Nova?"

Gamora snatched it out of his hands. "Well, you're about to not find out." Pip scowled at her.

"What happened?" Richard repeated sharply, still gazing around, but not focusing on anybody.

"Hey, take it easy, bro," said Peter, placing a hand on his shoulder. Richard jerked away without looking at him.

"What's going on?" Nova insisted. His voice edged on terrified now, and his eyes began to glow with a fierce gold. "What…" He suddenly burst into cosmic flame, knocking Peter and Robbie back from the sheer force of it, rather than from any heat. He stretched out his arms above him and shot straight up into the sky, directly, blasting a series of smoking holes through the ceiling and the ceilings of each floor above him, none of which even seemed to slow him down. And Ronan had just been saying about how strong it was, Peter reflected.

"Oh my God!" they heard Richard shout, from the very top of the hospital. "I… I killed them! I've lost it! I killed them! God, I have so much my lazy ass gotta do!" He let out a strangled, wordless, scream, and shot up again into space. His shriek trailed off quickly, due to his sheer speed and resulting distance, but Peter imagined he must be still up there, screaming as he cannonballed through the stars.

"RICHARD!" Robbie yelled, apparently at the top of his lungs, standing now, still staring at the hole in the ceiling. The little Kree kids started crying.

"Holy flark," Peter mumbled, gazing as well. He was confused… and he was just absolutely miserable. What was wrong with Richard? But something was fluttering to the floor now, blue and gold. Peter's eyes were blurred with tears the he was holding back, but just as the thing neared the floor, he recognized it.

Heather stretched out and lifted it, then dropped it again instantly as if it burnt her. "The Nova uniform," she whispered. "The helmet has some, but this had an additional mood inhibitor… a system that could send hormones into Richard's brain, to regulate his emotions… to some degree." She choked.

"Like cosmic antidepressants?" Peter asked, his voice barely a mumble.

Heather nodded. "Vaguely. But Pete, with all the power of the Nova Corps he has, and he's only human… I think this might have been the only thing letting him retain any sanity at all."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cuz it's never a bad idea to bring in the Hulk... (lol)

Hulk stood in the Saakaran countryside, his green eyes transfixed on the beautiful sky. It was peaceful, and he loved it. The war for freedom was almost won, he was married to a beautiful warrioress, and he was king. He hadn't asked for that honor, but the people said he was the Saakarson, the savior, and now, even he was starting to feel pleased with his new land. Always anger broiled within him when he was in this form, but for once, it was buried deep down inside, and he was happy.

"Hulk," he heard a gentle familiar voice behind him, and he looked over his shoulder. There stood Caiera, his queen and his beloved, beautiful, with her smooth gray skin, full dark lips, and her long Mohawk trailing down her black in a ponytail. His eyes flickered down to her belly. You couldn't see anything yet, but that, just obscured by her sparing armor, was the best part of all. Only yesterday, she had told him she was pregnant, that they were actually going to have a child.

"You followed me," he observed in a low voice. "You're quiet, Caiera."

She smiled. "It was a required skill, in my line of work. Shadows are quiet. But it wasn't hard. You looked so peaceful, standing there, just gazing at the sky. I could almost imagine you hadn't a care in the world."

"We'll make this world a way where that can be true," Hulk promised, laying a large green hand gently on her belly. He hadn't been so sure about his supposed destiny before, but ever since the news about the baby, he had felt more confident.

"I know, my husband. And I can't wait." Caiera put her head to his chest. Suddenly she looked up, up towards the sky. "Hulk?"

He followed her gaze. Something blazing shone against the clouds. Was it a meteor? It looked like it could be. It was falling, getting larger and closer, but he still couldn't see what it was. The two of them waited a few moments in silence.

"It's not slowing down, or burning up," Caiera noticed.

"We should go back to the city," Hulk decided, but he didn't move.

"Wait…" Caiera gripped his hand. "That's… a Nova?"

"Nova?" Hulk echoed. He recognized the name, but he wasn't sure. He could've sworn it belonged to an Earth hero, but that seemed too distasteful for Saakar, ironic as that was. Probably it had many meanings. A nova was, after all, an exploding star. But he doubted that was what she meant, either.

"A member of the Nova Corps of Xandar," Caiera explained. "They enforce galactic law, and supposedly fly like humanoid rockets."

"Cosmic police?" Hulk growled softly, and Caiera nodded.

"Don't worry, husband, they're good people, so I've heard, and their laws are just. They don't often come to Saakar. Maybe he's here to help."

"It's late for that," the Hulk stated.

"Still, there is much to be done," Caiera nodded. She paused. "Hulk… he looks out of control."

"He's not headed towards the city," Hulk added. His eyes widened. The Nova — it was clearly a humanoid shape now — was speeding up as he plummeted now, and it looked unmistakably in their direction. Getting larger, closer, hotter! Hulk swore, wrapping an arm around his wife and leaping into a crevice sheltered by rock, shielding her from the outside by his own massive body. Caiera didn't cry out, but her eyes were wide, and soon there was a loud noise like a crash, and an immense force that caused the ground to tremble. Following this was some loud, unmanly, sobs — absolutely belonging to a man.

Hulk got up and helped his wife to her feet. They gazed together at the site. There was a large crater, smoking, and a man knelt in the middle of it, slouched over, with his face buried in his hands in a position of dejection. He looked so frigging pitiful, Hulk almost felt sorry for him. He didn't have a shirt, just a bath towel around his waist. With a pang Hulk realized the man reminded him of himself, back in the old days, when he was always on the run, after a transformation back into his puny Banner form. Of course, he had been less pathetic than this weirdo. He pushed that thought uncomfortably out of his mind.

Caiera ran to the sad man, and Hulk followed more slowly. She knelt down at his side, and put a gentle hand on his muscular back. The man shuddered at the touch, then looked up. His face looked human, and his eyes were wide and veiny, but not teary. "Who're you?" he demanded, with surprising ferocity.

"I'm Caiera," she replied, then added, "Queen of Saakar. Who are you?"

"Uh…" The man's eyes flickered to the sky. "I… I, I, I, I… oh. Hey. I am Nova Centurion 1124 9-4 4 396… Your Highness. Or, I was."

"He _is_ a Nova! I think he's delirious, though." Caiera looked at her husband, then back at the Nova. "Do you have a name, centurion?"

He nodded feebly. "It's Richard. And maybe, maybe I am delirious, because… is that the Hulk?"

Hulk frowned at him. "Do I know you?"

"I dunno," Richard mumbled. "Where did you say we are again?"

"Saakar," Caiera replied.

"I have a friend who danced with a Saakaran chick just last night, at a party," Richard chuckled.

"Definitely delirious," Hulk agreed. "We take him to the city?"

"I suppose," Caiera agreed.

"He… NO!" Richard shouted suddenly, scrambling to his feet. His widened eyes began to glow with a smoldering brightness. "The party, I woke up surrounded, the party was destroyed, that's why I left… how could I, I killed them! How many?" He zoomed above their heads. "No! I'm alone! No! No!" He started crying again. "NOOO!" The sky exploded with light.

"Richard!" Caiera yelled at the Nova, grabbing onto the Hulk's hand. "It's okay! Calm down!"

"No," Richard choked. "No. No…" Suddenly, and so abruptly that it was creepy as heck, he started laughing maniacally. "But yes! It _is_ okay — it's more than okay! I'm the last of the Nova Corps. I've been being so stupid! Terrified to face my duties! To police the galaxy, one conflict at a time, like my old ways, and the ways of every other Nova before me? Hell no! I have the entirety of the Nova Force at my disposal! I wield the power of a god! I can save you all now, in a way that no Nova before has ever had the power to do! I'm above merely being a cop! I can control what goes on! I can protect you! I can protect the galaxy! I should rule the galaxy! Flark, I can protect, and rule, the universe!"

Beside him, Hulk heard metal against metal. Caiera was drawing her sword. Hulk crouched slightly. "I'll take this puny butterfly down," he whispered to her, and pounced with all his force. The Incredible Hulk was the strongest there is, and yet, as he hurtled through the air towards the Nova, a hard cosmic blare made him collapse heavily into the crater below, denting it further. He let out a breath of air, impressed.

"You're got some fight, for a puny little—" Hulk began, but Richard cut him off, in a thunderously loud voice.

"Puny? Speak for yourself! _You're_ puny. Can you even imagine? But whether or not, I will save you. I'll go to your city, and I'll show them the new order of the universe! And please, Worldmind, shut up!" He zoomed away.

"He… he's a Nova centurion… he shouldn't be that powerful…" Caiera trailed off, staring in his direction.

Hulk took a deep breath, preparing himself after that fall for a jump, and Caiera grabbed onto his hand. He looked into her eyes, and saw in them right away that there was no use arguing to her. She was a warrior, and she was coming. He lifted her up, bent his knees, and leapt. It took him seven vast leaps to get back.

The sky above the city was filled with light, which they could see long before they got there. Nova was hovering in the sky, shouting incomprehensibly and laughing. The people looked scared. Panicked. Confused. Some had weapons, though, and seemed to be waiting for leadership.

"You cannot conquer us!" yelled one voice.

"We have a Green King, and he is the strongest there is!" shouted another.

"Our Green King is the Saakarson!" yelped another. "He will defeat you."

"People of Saakar!" Richard's voice sounded almost wounded. "Why won't you understand that I'm trying to help you?"

"Green King!" several shouted at that moment, noticing his arrival.

Hulk set down Caiera, and strutted down the road powerfully. "Richard!" he shouted up.

"Yes, Hulk?" Rich descended slightly, yet remained still out of the reach of civilians, bursting with bright light and a smile on his face. "You _are_ the Hulk, aren't you? I have no idea how you got here from Earth, or why these people are calling an animal like you their king, but you have no right. And now, this planet is under my protection. It belongs to me. This is the planetary capital, right?"

"But Hulk is Saakarson!" squeaked a young one, of the insect race of Saakar. "You are Worldbreaker!"

Several mutters dispersed through the crowd at this. The Saakaran prophesies were well-known to have long foretold of a Saakarson, a savior, and a Worldbreaker, a destroyer. Hulk still wasn't sure whether he believed them, but he did know one thing. He was mad. The anger inside him burned hot for Nova.

"Nova," Hulk growled, clenching his fists. "You're a human, aren't you? A very typical human. Now I remember. You're one of that overpopulation of minor self-styled superheroes in New York."

Nova laughed again, and his laughter was mocking. "For one: self-styled? Really, Hulk? I was given my rank by Nova Prime Rhomann Dey of Xandar. You can't get more official than that. Of course, I have since grown far over and beyond my former power…"

Hulk distastefully cleared his throat. "You said for one?"

"Oh." Richard nodded slowly and strangely. "Yeah… two, I'm not human. Not anymore. I'm so very exponentially greater than that."

"Really?" Hulk taunted. "Then how come you're hiding up there in the sky?"

"Hiding? I'm up here to be seen! And it's not as if you can't jump high."

Hulk paused. "Take this out of the city."

"What?" Nova protested, and he genuinely looked confused.

"Hulk," Caiera murmured. "I'm no physician, but I really think he's still genuinely delirious."

"Delirious, yet somehow physically able, and too powerful for his own good," Hulk growled back under his throat. "Not a good combination." He raised his voice again at Richard, "Let's take this out of the city. We can fight it out. You and me."

Richard smiled slightly. "Oh, fight for the kingship, that kinda thing? Do they do that here? That's what the old Champion of the Universe likes to do. But he's a bad guy. All he cares about is winning. …Maybe I should challenge him."

"Maybe you should." Hulk smirked. He couldn't imagine this squirt defeating the Champion of the Universe. "But if you want Saakar, you've gotta go through me."

"You don't understand!" Richard persisted. "I want to save you all! That's what Novas do!"

"Where's your uniform!" one Saakaran demanded loudly. "Where's your Nova helmet!"

Another shrieked, "How do you even have your powers without them?"

"My powers are bonded to me," Richard responded thickly. "A change has come over me, and I'm too great for anything to hold me back. My uniform was regulating things in my brain. I couldn't let it interfere."

Hulk sighed. "Nova. Out."

"Fine!" Richard flew just out of the city. "Whatever it takes to protect your flarking obstinate asses. C'mon, Hulk!"

Hulk rolled his eyes and followed. Defeating this puny insect would be nothing, compared to all the crap Hulk had been through lately.


	9. Chapter 9

There was a silence, so profound, that Adam could practically hear all the hearts beating in the room. He gazed at them, but his eyes soon settled on Robert, still staring at the ceiling, with angry tears in his eyes. Adam's heart twanged. Robert was still only a boy, and a powerless Terran, though his heart was strong. And he had lost his brother, who was now one of the most powerful beings in the universe without being a one of the full-fledged legendary cosmic entities. Adam hated cosmic entities. They always thought they were entitled to things.

Adam cleared his throat. "I'll go fetch him."

Gamora looked at him skeptically. "Excuse me?"

Adam met her eyes evenly. "I said, I'll go fetch him. All due respect, Most Dangerous Woman In The Galaxy, but I am the most powerful being here among us. _Objectively_. Which might prove helpful, if Rider is having an unrestrained panic attack. Also, my speeds are equal to his, and I have the cosmic awareness to track him." He walked up to Robert, and put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, he'll be fine. Happens all the time, in outer space. Didn't Richard tell you?"

The kid tore his bitter eyes away from the hole in the ceiling. "I'm not stupid."

"D'ya think Adam was trying to joke?" Peter hissed too-loudly into Heather's ear. Adam gave him a disdainful glance, but Peter reached out and touched his arm lightly. "Hey. I wanna come."

"Me too," Robert said instantly, sounding significantly more determined than Peter, honestly. Yeah, he was a fiery one. Not cool.

Adam sighed, trying not to be too annoyed. "I can handle…"

"Alright. Yeah, sure. But I'll follow in my ship," Peter replied detachedly, rummaging through his pockets. He then took out a small round sticker, and pressed it onto Adam's sleeve. "Here. It's a tracking device for me to, uh, track your speedy ass. Good luck. Be gentle with him."

"Very well," Adam agreed, gazing up at the path Richard had left. Robert put an arm on his shoulder.

"Take me."

Adam looked at him, a little tiredly. "No."

"Not an option!" Robert shook his head. "You did it before, you can do it again. I'll be useful. I'm smart. I'm Richard's brother, man."

"I understood that." Adam had no time for this. He pushed the kid away, not gently, though he used all his restraint.

"Listen to him," said Gamora ironically, taking Robert roughly by the arm. Well, he was ended, Adam thought.

"So, guys," he heard Peter say, "anybody got a ship for the borrowing? My old one died."

Adam took off straight into the sky. He could feel Nova's energies still lingering here, though dispersed, and getting more so as the seconds passed. It wasn't long before he realized Richard was on the planet Saakar, and he got there soon after. He circled halfway around the planet to find him, just outside what looked like an important city. Then he surveyed the scene.

There was Richard.

He was hovering in the sky, only perhaps five meters from the ground, a smugly triumphant smile on his face. A large green humanoid creature was lying motionless on the ground beneath him; if Adam hadn't known any better, he would have thought it was Earth's hero Hulk. They had obviously had a Hulk-sized fight; the rocky ground was literally torn up in a wide radius. People had started swarming out of the city now, letting out cries of dismay. One, a tall gray woman with a long ponytail and a sword, pushed through them all and brandished her sword up at Nova. "Face me, you monster!" she screamed, and her voice was powerful. "And who is this accomplice?"

"Accomplice?" Nova turned his head slowly, and gave Adam a smile that was so friendly, it was creepy. "He's not my accomplice. But he is a friend. This is Adam Warlock, the genetically engineered messiah turned freak."

Adam decided to ignore that. Instead he looked at the woman. She looked absolutely furious, and he guessed she had every right to be. But they were both out of her reach. "People of Saakar," Adam began, "I apologize for whatever this man has done here. He's not well. But I've come to take him home."

"Then are you the true Saakarson?" one insect-like creature asked. Adam didn't know what that meant.

"Where the flark is 'home'?" Richard spat, his smile vanishing quickly without leaving a trace. "Because I don't suppose you mean Earth. My home is the entire universe now, Adam. I _am_ the universe!"

"No, you aren't, because you are not Infinity," Adam replied, speaking slowly to be sure he'd understand. "Infinity is a schlaghole. You are not. You're a hero, Richard, and a good man. Plus, you've got the whole legacy of the Nova Corps to live up to. So come with me. I'm going to get you some help."

Richard gazed at him for a second, and for a moment Adam thought he was getting through to him, but then the moment passed. "Get me some help?" He laughed. "Can't you see? I don't need help! I'm the all-new and improved Nova!" He shook his head. "I don't have time for this, Adam. Leave me alone. I'll deal with you later."

"Deal with me?" Adam glared. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, I think I do," Richard replied lightly. "I hope to bring you to my cause, perhaps grant you some status in my new order… but if all else fails, I have the power. I just defeated the Incredible Hulk himself, in case you didn't notice."

Adam glanced back down at the huge green body. "That really is the Hulk?" He turned back to Richard. He couldn't get distracted. "You won't convince me. A madman ruling the universe is no universe I wish to live in. But I don't wish to hurt you, Rider. Give me a chance. Just trust me, and I'll take you to a doctor who knows about these things; and when you are healed, no charges will be held against you."

Richard's eyes were glowing more fluorescently than normal, but Adam had the sense he was rolling them. "So," said Rich, "you want me to play into your hand until you find some way to strip me of the Nova Force. I'm the last Nova, dammit! You said something about upholding the Nova legacy? Well here's me, doing that! I can finally protect the entire universe, all at once! So follow me, Adam, or go the das't away, and I can deal with you later! Please!"

Adam narrowed his eyes. "And leave this world to your crazy whims? I think that'd be a very definite no."

"Fine then!" Richard shouted, and he sounded like a spoiled kid. He somersaulted and shot horizontally towards Adam, hands out before him. Adam zipped out the way and grabbed him by the back of his hair. Richard yelped.

"Sakaarans," Adam shouted down, "my apologies again. Know that he recently saved the universe from annihilation, if that's any comforrrrrt!" He was suddenly dragged up high into the sky, still holding onto Richard's hair.

"Do you have any idea how much this hurts?" Rich asked in a strained voice.

"Some," Adam couldn't help but gloat a little, not letting go. "You know, you would make this a lot easier on yourself if you just came with me."

Rich flipped over and kicked him in the head, showering him with enough painful raw cosmic energy to make him very dizzy and let go. "Easier on myself? You're no match for me! Best you can do is pull my hair."

"I'm a more skilled tactician," Adam offered, shooting quantum beams from both hands in the direction he thought Richard was in. He was zooming around so fast. A sharp intake of air told him that Richard had been hit, but his voice a couple seconds later told him he wasn't hurt bad.

"Better tactician? Hello, I'm the trained Nova!" Richard pointed out.

"You're also clinically insane," Adam replied, dodging another attack. "Moondragon told me."

"Oh, and she knows so much, doesn't she," Richard sighed sarcastically, then after a pause: "She didn't read my mind, did she?"

"She said it was too garbled to make out anything clear," Adam replied, turning round and round. He was still disoriented, and he wondered what Rich was up to.

"That's because I'm too smart," Richard said proudly. "Adam, you know I don't want to kill you, right?"

"But you have to for the good of all, yes," Adam finished for him. "I've heard that speech before, believe it or not."

"That's _not_ what I was gonna say, flarknard!" Richard protested, storming Adam with more cosmic energy blasts. Adam braced himself for the blows, and fired towards the source, punching his opponent with more quantum beams. "Seriously, Adam," said Richard, "All I want right now is for you to leave me alone. I'm alone enough… all the other Novas, Wendell Vaughn… I destroy everything I love, how hard for you to go away too? I don't have time for this right now — not in my plans to save the universe! To protect everyone that exists, to guard and lead them away from all evil… why don't you want me to do that?"

"You don't even have _that_ much power," Adam replied, blinking hard at the mini monologue. He knew it was true. He had managed to cause Richard at least some pain, and there were beings like Galactus out there, who would be more than willing to stop a universal level threat, if it ever came to that.

"That's it, though!" Richard insisted. "I do!"

Adam listened again for his voice, and fired quantum energy at him. He could see Nova, but it was like there were two of him, or three of him, and he wasn't at all sure which way was up anymore. His whole body hurt. "Messiah complex, much!" he scoffed.

Richard laughed again, this time harder and louder. "And this is coming from the punk who founded the Universal Church of Truth to worship him. And made the law 'worship me or die,' too. Honestly?"

"I did none of that!" Adam protested, throwing his fists hard in the air. "And besides, you can't blame me for that! The whole reason I was created was to be a messiah that would destroy the Earth and rebuild it to be perfect, and I took the most moral path I could in that situation! When I fled, first place I landed up on was Counter-Earth, where everyone down to the last politician worshiped me! Look, at least, up through this moment, I don't plan to conquer the universe against their will! I am not to blame!"

"Uh…" Richard fired more cosmic energy at him, which he dodged. "So you're saying, just because the mad scientists who cooked you up said you were a god, and the idiots on the Counter-Earth said you were a god, that means you are a god? And what, about the Universal Church of Truth, do you actually identify yourself with the Magus?"

"You're messing with my words!" Adam protested, feeling embarrassed. "What matters is, you are not a god! You're a human!"

"And you're an idiot," Richard clucked his tongue. "I should really stop playing with you now. I should just go; you're in no condition to follow me. So long, Warlock." He zipped away, just as Adam rubbed his eyes… and managed to grab hold of Richard's ankle.

Richard yelped, kicking his leg.

"Look on the bright side, Rider!" Adam shouted over the supersonic speed. "This time it's not your hair!"

"Humor doesn't suit you, Adam! You need to spend more time practicing in the mirror!" Richard yelled back, speeding up. Adam held on tight.

"How do you even think I was trying to be humorous?!"

"Whatever, dude!" Rich called. "Hey, Worldmind! Can I open a stargate without my helmet to make the calculations?" He paused. "I don't flarking care, Worldmind!" he shrieked abruptly. "If I opened a stargate, would my atoms get scattered across reality? That's all I'm trying to ask your stupid ass!" He paused again. "I don't care if it's dangerous! I'm immune to danger! The leech on my leg, however, is another matter, in my hands! And why are you taking his side?"

"Because the Xandarian Worldmind isn't a 'stupid ass'!" Adam suggested loudly.

"Shut up Adam!" Rich yelled. "Worldmind, can you do the calculations? Do it! Get me straight to the edge of Kree Space! Opening stargate!"

Adam's whole body felt squeezed out of shape as they entered hyperspace. But this was nothing for him. In the past he had survived, he had _defeated_ the Reality Gem used alone at full power; which had took him to realms where reality was backwards, or undead, or worst of all, where reality entirely didn't exist at all. In comparison, hyperspace was a walk in the park.

"How the das't are you still hanging on?!" Richard demanded. He seemed stunned.

"I'm not letting you off so easily!" Adam gasped. He was still a bit winded from their fight. Richard was impressive.

"Well, I just hope you survive the trip back," Rich replied smarmily. "I'd hate it if my best friend Adam was trapped in hyperspace forever."

"Not going to happen," Adam breathed, and about four seconds later, they were pulled out of hyperspace, back into their own dimension. And they were falling, falling towards some planet or other…

"You were right, Worldmind, that got me dizzy!" Richard yelled. "Adam, let go of me!

"You wish!" Adam shot back, climbing up along his leg. The heat of rushing through an atmosphere was starting to hit them, and his spandex uniform sizzled and burned, tearing off his body and taking small flakes of now-reddened skin with it. He winced in silent pain.

"You're gonna die when we hit the planet!" Rich cried.

"That's never stopped me before!" Adam yelled. "I'm not letting you get away!" His arms were around Richard's waist now.

"I'm being serious!" Rich shouted back. "Which way would you rather die: a pancake on a planet, or overloaded by my cosmic energy? I mean, look, we can both fly! Do you want to force me to kill you?"

"How'd it come to that?" Adam demanded, now tightening his grip under Richard's armpits. Their faces were level with each other now, both apparently out of control.

"This is so not how I pictured today would go!" Richard shrieked. "Nose to nose with Adam Warlock, my bare chest pressed against his! Not that you ain't one sexy motherfucker!"

"I'm not…" Adam trailed off, feeling his yellow cheeks redden, and turning his head away. His uniform really was only half on him now. This sucked, he seemed shy! He wasn't shy, though. He just didn't know what to say, and he didn't want Rich to think he wanted him. Because he didn't. He cleared his throat. "You're the one who stripped off your clothes."

"I didn't want the brain monitors holding me back, geez!" Richard yelled.

"Honestly, Nova, you don't realize how utterly insane this power has made you," Adam said.

"Hello, I'm _driven_! You're the one who's insane!" he retorted. "Star-Lord thinks so too, you know! Made him shy about inviting you to the party! Adam, you know I was going easy on you when we fought just now! I was terrified of killing you! I could take you out in a heartbeat, if only I didn't hold back. 'Utterly insane' people don't hold back. See, I—" Richard was cut off by a sudden impact, and Adam felt as if all the bones in his body were rattled with an indescribable pain. They crashed into the merciless roof of some metal building, plummeted right through it, and several yards into the ground, presumably forming a crater.

Adam cracked his eyes open weakly. There was smoking rubble, and bent and broken shiny silver bars, lying all around; and several wide eyes were staring at him. It took him half a minute to realize this was a prison.

"Worldmind, help me heal," he heard that familiar voice croak by his side, and a surge of hope seized him. Richard was weak. This would be the perfect moment to dope him up, take him back to the hospital.

"I can't think straight," Richard mumbled. "Adam…? Adam, are you okay?" He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he blinked to see Richard's worried face. "Oh God. Adam, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Adam whispered hoarsely, relief flooding him. "I'm just glad I have my friend back."

He thought he saw Richard smile. "Oh… right. You're right. I wanted you to leave me alone, so I could go save and guard the universe and all that. Because I wasn't good enough in the War and millions of people died. But no more. I'm going now. I'm glad you're not dead, Adam, I really am."

"Nova…" Adam choked, blinking harder up at him, but he changed his mind in mid-sentence what was the most important thing to say to him. "You did _not_ beat me. Remember that. The fall beat me, so you cannot go around bragging that you defeated Adam Warlock. And I was going easy on you, too."

"Yeah, right," Richard scoffed. "You wish. But look, the people in prison clothes are looking at us like we're weirdos, including what looks like a raccoon… next to an Ent… oh, Worldmind says it's a floral being native to Planet X… but I gotta go. Heal up somewhere quiet. See ya." He stood up shakily, and Adam pushed himself with all his strength into a sitting position.

"Nova… wait…" But he didn't have the strength to grab on. Still wobbly, Richard shot up into space, like a shooting star flying backwards, until he disappeared into the sky. As he did, Adam and felt his arms give way as he slumped back to the ground, and he blacked out.


	10. Chapter 10

"Gorgeous, very nice," Peter nodded, strutting along through the Kree ship that Ronan had led him to, helmet under one arm. Peter knew this was a vast favor, and he didn't intend to forget it. "Does she have a name?" He didn't wait for the short elderly blue Kree man by his side to reply. "My old ship was called Ship," he explained. "She died a hero. But anyways, _this_ ship… I'll call her the Milano, if that's alright. Don't tell Nova that, if you see him."

The Kree nodded awkwardly. "Uh… right?? Well, I'll be going back now."

"Excellent," Peter smiled. "Thanks for the tour. Tell Ronan I said thank you, too. I'm too much of a jerk to say it to his face."

The Kree man nodded, already walking away. But as he opened the door, two ladies burst in.

Heather and Phyla. They had varying degrees of wide-eyed looks on their faces. "You ready?" they asked almost in unison, then exchanged glances.

Gamora pushed past them venomously and walked straight into the ship. "And don't you dare try leaving without me, Peter. It's _my_ useless man we're going after."

Peter whistled. "Useless man? Whew, somebody's having relationship issues…"

"Someone was in a relationship?" Gamora said dismissively, heading towards the control deck.

"That's too bad," Phyla muttered. "They were so cute together."

"Shut up," Gamora glowered.

"Anyway, I wasn't even thinking of abandoning you," Peter smiled. "Just the kid. Robert. I don't know how he believes my excuses, let's just get gone quick before he figures me out and hounds us."

Gamora gritted her teeth, starting to look terrifying. "Peter, you got the tracking device for Adam?"

"One sec, I'll wire it in!" Peter jogged to catch up with her. He did so, still admiring the space ship. It looked pretty new. "And we're off! Bye bye Baby Rider!" he whistled, as the ship zoomed off gracefully into the sky. Phyla grabbed the back of a seat for support.

"Hmm…" Peter brought up a 3-dimensional hologram of a map, showing a line where Adam's path had led. He clicked on a planet. "Any of you gals ever been to Sakaar? I've heard of it, but I always thought it sounded boring, never bothered to visit."

Heather nodded thoughtfully. "I think so. Not the most awesome place."

"They have gladiator fights," Gamora put in. "Thanos took me there once, a long time ago."

"Sakaarans are red, right?" Phyla asked hesitantly. She wasn't quite as well-travelled as the others.

Heather nodded. "Yes, those are the red Sakaarans. There are also gray Sakaarans — which are the same species, just different ethnicity — and there are the insectoid Sakaarans." She blushed. "Seems I do know a thing about it after all. Anyway, that's where Adam is?"

Peter shook his head. "Nah, but he stopped there a while. Then went into space again in a pretty random path, like he wasn't flying normally. And then… he teleported, I guess? And then the tracker's signature just ends, all of a sudden. So, either my tracker got destroyed, which would seriously suck, but seems most likely; or Adam teleported out of range — and I'm telling ya, this baby has a pretty long distance range! So… we are heading to Saakar! See what we can see, ask the natives, that kinda thing."

Gamora nodded and turned away. "Let me know when we arrive, Quill."

Peter sighed, and nodded, his eyes still on the screen, and his fingers still on the controls. "I wanna be let know too. I'm putting her on autopilot, following Adam's path. Meanwhile, I'll hopefully be sleeping off my hangover."

He turned in the same direction Gamora had left, and walked down the hall, remembering one of the rooms the old Kree had shown him. He entered through a door, kicked off his boots, and stretched out on the cot. He fluttered and yanked out the folded sheets, pulled them over his head, and closed his heavy eyelids to give into the exhaustion. "Please, Richard," he whispered. "Please be okay." He sighed, but he was lucky, for it was not long before he fell into uneasy dreams.

He was woken by a soft knock. He jerked up his head instantly, and saw Gamora. She was leaning against the doorframe — he had forgotten to close the door — with a grim smile on her face. "We've arrived, Quill. Heather is trying to give us a good landing."

He jumped to his feet, rubbing his eyes groggily. "Awesome. Let's go say hi to those Saakarans."

He followed her into the control room, and walked past Heather at the wheel to press his nose against the window. Saakar was a deserty planet, full of big broken stones, but it didn't look too terrible. There were at least some plants, mostly in some long form of a grass. And he could see what looked like quite an impressive city, with tall sweeping architecture, specializing tan shades, but not restricted to it. The streets where bustling with people, he could see now.

Heather landed just outside the walls. "We're here. Let's go!"

"Yup." Peter picked up the helmet that'd been his for as long as he'd known he was the Star-Lord — he'd left it in here — and put it on. "Not a moment to waste! This is my new ship, so I'm the leader here. Just so we're clear." He ran to the door with a loud yawn, and opened it, pressing the button to extend the ramp. His three female companions followed close behind.

He strode down the ramp and towards the open gate of the city. People were staring, but he knew how to act confident, and the helmet helped. They walked through the gates, but were intercepted by a man. He looked rocky, like the Thing of Earth's Fantastic Four; only with a build less broad, and a narrower head. He was dressed sparingly in dark armor, and although his expression wasn't aggressive, it was wary and serious. He spoke. "I am Korg. I see you are… not from here. What business do you have on Saakar?"

"Hi Korg!" Peter smiled brightly, before remembering nobody could see it with his helmet on. Well, at least his voice was friendly. "Nice planet, you've got here. I'm Star-Lord, and these are some friends of mine. Moondragon, Quasar (new Quasar, as of recently), and Gamora. But today we bring you no danger! We just have a few questions."

Gamora gritted her teeth. "Did you see a yellow man around here?"

Korg hesitated. "I wasn't present at the time, but yes, a yellow man was here. Are you looking for Adam Warlock?"

Peter nodded eagerly. "So you have seen him! Is he still here? Did he say where he was going?"

Korg paused again. "I think you'd do better to speak to one who saw it."

"Indeed," a new voice spoke up, and Peter turned to see a beautiful gray woman. She was very tall, wore a long mohawk in a ponytail, had a slim but voluptuous body, and not a lot of clothes. He stared at her for a few starstruck moments, mouth hanging open. Awkward.

"Perhaps, if you strangers know more about this happening, you should come to the palace," the lady suggested calmly.

"We're in a bit of a hurry to find him," Phyla told her apologetically. "We can't stay."

"Let the aliens go, we're all good," called a loud deep voice, and Peter somehow managed to tear his eyes away from the beautiful woman. He almost jumped. Coming to meet them in long — if unsteady — strides, was the freaking Incredible Hulk. At least, that's what it looked like. Though… it couldn't be him. That would be just too weird.

"Husband, you needn't trouble yourself," said the gray lady, touching his arm anxiously as he reached them.

"You… you're her husband?" Peter choked. Then he swallowed, blushing at the looks the pair both gave him. He was at least very glad he hadn't flirted with her.

"Gamora?" The green giant fixed her with a firm gaze, before shifting it to Heather. "Moondragon?"

The two nodded slowly. "…Hulk?" Gamora said hesitantly.

Hulk nodded back, and Peter yelled out: "Holy flark! How the hell did you get to Saakar?"

Hulk looked at them darkly, and for a few moments Peter thought he wasn't going to answer. But he did, if tersely. "Puny humans betrayed me. Saakar is my home now, and here I'm the Green Scar."

"Green King, and I am his Queen Caiera." The gray woman leaned her head briefly against him, then again took his hand. "Hulk, you're still battleworn. We should go back."

"I'm fine," Hulk growled. "Okay guys, explain. What were Nova and Warlock doing here tearing up my kingdom?"

Peter whistled, still wondering over the craziness of Hulk being a king. But then it hit him. "Wait, Nova was actually here too?"

Hulk nodded. "He wanted to take over Saakar, the little snot."

Peter clenched a fist. "Was he okay?" Hulk gazed at Peter dubiously, and he amended his question. "Of course he wasn't okay. But he didn't seem, y'know, too damaged? Like, with a bit of medicine and possibly therapy, he would be okay, right?"

Caiera stared at him. "Who did you say you were again?"

"I'm Nova's friend," Peter replied firmly. "He saved me from the Klyn, and we've been like peanut butter and jam, ever since. But who I am exactly, I'm Star-Lord."

"Heir to the throne of Spartax?" she asked, and Peter nodded grudgingly. He hated being a Spartoi prince.

"So we're talking royalty-to-royalty," he just noticed one advantage that really needed pointing out at this particular moment, in spite of his usual detestment of it. "Anyway, what exactly happened?"

Hulk replied gruffly. "Nova crash-landed on this planet, blinking like a baby. He seemed confused, kinda delirious. Of course that didn't last long. After Nova declared himself dictator, we fought. But I wasn't prepared for all his power. He won." Hulk lowered his eyes. Obviously admitting a defeat wasn't easy for him.

Caiera put a comforting hand on her husband's back. "That bastard Nova kept hovering too high for me to battle him myself," she continued bitterly. "Then Adam Warlock came. They did a lot more talking than was necessary, but to put it simply, the two of them fought each other, zooming higher and higher out into the sky, and hopefully out of our business." He looked at them each in turn. "I hope you can find your friend, and that you can make him well. And if that fails, I hope you kill him."

Peter looked back at his friends with a sigh. "So, like, there's nothing you can say with certainty, about where they are now?"

"No," Caiera shook her head. "I'm sorry."

Peter sighed. "Well, thanks. I guess we'll just keep on the look out for reports of a crazy guy trying to take over worlds. In the meantime, uh, Hulk, if you need a ride to Earth…"

"Never," Hulk interrupted. "I'm never going back there."

"Okay, your call," Peter shrugged. "C'mon, gang, nothing to see here."

Gamora fixed her eyes on Hulk. "If he returns, call."

"Right," Hulk grunted.

Gamora turned and strutted lightly away, and the other three followed her. "Oh well," muttered Phyla. "What can we do now?"

"That was insane," Peter shook his head. "Hulk? The angriest Avenger? Like whoa!" He pushed past Gamora and ran up the ramp first, into the ship and all the way to the controls. "Whoa," he repeated softly under his breath, as instinctively he reached out again for his tracker's signal. Waiting. Suddenly, he found something. "Ladies!" he yelled, and the three met him at the controls. He pointed to the holograph. "It's faint, but I think we've latched onto something on the edge of the empire! This… is sweet!" He put it on autopilot, and sat back, smiling. "Adam and Nova, here we come!"


	11. Chapter 11

Gloria Rider brushed her hand lightly along his soft hair, then laid her palm against his forehead. It was still burning with the hottest fever, but she didn't know what to do but tuck the light sheet around his chin. His head turned as she did so, and she paused in mid-motion, her hand on his hot cheek, silently reassuring him it was all going to be alright. But it was so worrying. None of the medicine she'd forced down his throat before he'd passed out was working, and she was very very worried.

It had started an hour earlier, with a knock on the door, and she had opened it to see her older son, Richard. He hadn't looked at all well. He'd been leaning against the house, his breathing unsteady, whatever little thing he'd been wearing ripped almost to shreds, and his eyes barely halfway open, solar light trickling from under his eyelids. She'd screamed for her husband, and Charles had come running. As together they'd helped their son to the couch, Charles had seemed too worried even to be angry. Richard kept mumbling in some strange language, not looking at either of them directly.

He'd been burning hot, so they'd brought him some water and some aspirin and some orange juice. He couldn't seem to get it all down, but he'd managed to swallow a couple aspirins. Then he'd spoke in English. "Thanks, Mom… Dad… I just need to crash." His eyes had rolled back, his his lids fluttered shut, and he'd passed out. Charles had carried him to his old bed, then left without much words, to be in solitude. Gloria had been watching over their son ever since. He'd barely stirred.

She sighed, and turned to depart from the room, wiping away a motherly tear. She entered the living room to find Charles, sitting on the sofa, head in his hands. She sat down by his side and placed a comforting hand on his back, and he looked up.

"He's about the same," she told him. "Sleeping and feverish."

"Sleeping should be good for him," Charles reassured her, then shook his head. "Agh, I could punch a man! Idiots always misdiagnose less common physical things as depression, or anxiety, it's the standard go-to. He's so clearly physically ill that… oh, geez. Cosmic idiots!" He clenched his hand. "And there's probably no Earth cure, for whatever he's afflicted with. We need, ah, what're they called, S.H.I.E.L.D.. They deal with aliens, right? Maybe they have some cure."

Gloria nodded. "Probably. Yes," she agreed hopefully. "We have the number, right?"

Charles nodded. "It's in the address book. Richard was concerned that his lifestyle choice might cause us to need it." He sighed. "If he was so determined to be a superhero, I wish he could've been a real one, like Iron Man. And stayed on Earth."

"He might still, someday," Gloria said shakily, standing up. Charles followed, and beat her to the address book.

"I'll talk. You look like you could use a break," he offered.

Gloria nodded and sat down at the kitchen table while he called up S.H.I.E.L.D.. Their table was dark brown and square, and suddenly it brought back memories, of the days when four people had shared their meals together around it. She, Charles, and the two boys. She wondered if Robert was alright, and her heart clenched. Why had Richard come back alone?

Charles returned, putting down the phone. "They said they were coming right away. Apparently they're worried he might have some alien virus that could infect us all." He shuddered. "That would be horrendous, think of Venom!"

Gloria stood up, alarmed. "That's not what's happening to Rich, is it?"

Charles shook his head firmly, and put a hand on her back. "I don't think so. And it sounds like these people really can help Richard."

Suddenly they both tensed. Gloria could hear footsteps in the hallway, and she could tell Charles did too. Then she pulled away and ran to it. "Richard!" she called, hopeful, and Charles followed.

Richard was standing in the hallway, gazing straight ahead, his arms hanging limply by his side. His eyes were physically glowing, though, strong and bright.

Gloria threw her arms around him, and he stiffened. "Excuse me…" his voice was monotone, and she drew back. Richard leaned against the wall. "Excuse me, I need to conserve energy."

Charles stood by Gloria's side, looking their son up and down. "That's how space aliens are talking these days, is it? Maybe you should just lie back down."

Richard shook his head. "I needed to warn you. I am sorry. Richard is not in his right mind at the moment, and wounded besides, so I had to take over."

"Oh my gosh," Gloria breathed, slowly putting this together, and Charles stumbled back, pulling her along with him and put an arm protectively in front of her.

"Who are you?!" he demanded furiously, but he was clearly terrified.

Richard looked at them pleadingly, an expression Gloria recognized only too well on that face. "Don't be afraid. I am the Xandarian Worldmind, and I mean you no harm. I have looked at Richard's memories, so I know much about you. Know that he is grateful to have a family who cares for him."

Charles stumbled into a bathroom, pulling Gloria along with him, and slammed the door, locking it in their son's face. "It'll be okay," he promised her. She was shaking, unsure what to think.

They heard a soft thud on the door, and a sliding sound. Gloria imagined Richard must be sitting there with his back to the door.

"I am sorry," he repeated.

"We don't want your apology, you invasive space slug!" Charles snapped loudly. Richard was silent.

"That was all you, then?" Gloria asked after a moment of silence. "It was you who stumbled into our home, who we fed aspirin?"

"No," Richard replied openly. "That was your son. I only took over his body a couple minutes ago. You see, I, the Worldmind, am a living computer containing data of all the history, philosophy, and art of Xandar. Richard allowed me to download myself into his brain to ensure my survival when Xandar was destroyed. I am merely animating his unconscious body. I do not have the capability to take control of his bodily functions when he is awake."

"Will he be okay?" Gloria asked anxiously.

"Don't listen to it," Charles told her firmly. "Any being that thinks it has the right to control our boy is a villain out of its mind. And if Richard really gave it permission, maybe he is too," he added, as if as an afterthought.

"I do not know, Mrs. Rider," Richard spoke up, ignoring Charles. "Bodily, Richard fell the full distance through the atmosphere of an alien world, flew back up, travelled by stargate to Earth, and fell through your atmosphere, though he did make an attempt to aim that fall; and flew straight here. Bodily, the Nova Force in his veins has long since healed him at its extraordinary rate; even my interaction barely slowed that process. His main affliction is the Nova Force, though vastly powerful, is too great for his human form. And mentally, I doubt any Terrans can heal him. He refuses help from his friends, and he is too powerful to control."

"Refuses his cosmic friends? Good for him!" Charles grunted.

"Richard Rider is more powerful and more insane than any of your Avengers — possibly on par with the Sentry, though I don't have sufficient data on _him_ ," Richard insisted. "Richard has changed significantly since he was last on Earth. My suggestion is that you take him to S.H.I.E.L.D., have them keep him permanently under anesthesia, and download me into one of their infamous LMD's."

"Exactly what a thing like you would say, just to get your own body!" Charles snapped, and Gloria was inclined to agree with him.

"Mr. Rider, I—" Richard began, then ended abruptly. There was a thud from outside, as if he collapsed. "Gamora…" Richard choked hoarsely. "Just see, just see how much I love you."

"Richie?" Gloria cried.

"Seriously? The green woman?" Charles groaned.

"My apologies," Richard said calmly. "He's on the edge of conscious—" He ended again abruptly, and changed to a choked sob.

Gloria stood up. "He needs us."

"This might be a trick," said Charles. The two exchanged glances. They both knew it. But Gloria placed her hand on the doorknob, unlocked it, and opened the door.

Richard was curled up into a ball on the floor. "Gosh, Warlock didn't give me that bad a beating, did he?" he mumbled.

"Rich," Gloria sat on the floor, and lifted his head into her lap. His eyes flickered open, and they were still glowing. "Gamora?" he mumbled.

"It's Mom," she corrected softly.

"Oh," he mumbled. "I'm trying to heal… lucky that's one of my superpowers." He chuckled, obviously high on delirium. "I almost died because I let personal feelings get in my way, y'know?"

"You were fighting Adam Warlock?" Charles asked, leaning over him too.

"Dad?" Richard smiled faintly. "You're not gonna yell at me about being Nova?"

" _Rich_ ," Charles said firmly.

"Yes, sir," Richard mumbled, closing his blazing eyes again. "I reluctantly fought Adam Warlock, and I won, but I'm a good guy so I chose to leave him alive. Not that he wouldn't just wake up from a cocoon if I killed him."

"How are you feeling?" Gloria asked anxiously, but he didn't reply. She shook him lightly, but he remained limp. "Richard?" she cried anxiously, and Charles lifted his wrist to feel for a pulse. He nodded in relief. Richard groaned. "Richie?" Gloria said softly.

"Sorry," Richard muttered. "I can barely hear you, I got this really annoying computer in my head that won't shut up."

"Did you give it permission to 'take control of your bodily functions'?" Charles did air quotes as he said that last part.

"Of course not," Richard flinched. "Das't, heal up already! I'm burning away from the inside…"

"Um." Charles swallowed. "Rich, I just wanted to tell you… I know I haven't always agreed with your choices, but I love you. Your mother and I both love you, and will always love you. No matter what." Gloria stared at her husband. He didn't usually express himself like that.

Richard smiled. "Love ya too, Dad. But I'm not gonna die now, I've got too much left to do."

"You certainly do." Charles clasped his son's hand, and Gloria could see Richard squeeze back weakly. He closed his eyes again.

Gloria shook him emotionally. "Please Richie, hang on. You can't go to sleep yet."

"Why not?" he whined. "I'm injured."

"You just need to stay awake," Charles put in. "The Worldmind… isn't exactly trustworthy."

"I coulda told you that," Richard mumbled faintly.

Charles slapped him on the face. "Hey, hang on. Hey Rich, where's Robbie?"

"I dunno," Richard replied, blinking weakly. "He was at this big rad party my friends threw for me yesterday. I guess he's still back on Tantus 4. It's a safe place."

There was a knock on the door, but neither of them got it.

Richard's eyes were closed again, and Gloria shook him again. She hated to do this to him, but they just couldn't let him be taken over again. "Hang on, Richard. You'll be okay."

He didn't reply.

"Oh my God, please," she choked, and Richard coughed.

"Gamora…" he whispered.

"Tell me about Gamora," Gloria suggested desperately. "Is she your girlfriend?"

"Please don't tell me you've been getting infatuated with alien women," Charles sighed.

"I dunno," Richard mumbled dreamily. "Gamora… Yes, we're an item. Well, I wanna be her boyfriend. I keep hoping I'm more than just her boytoy. She doesn't like to be deep with me. But I'm happy as long as we're fucking. Which probably isn't something I should be telling my mother about."

"Good gracious me," Charles cried. Gloria though was really too worried to about Richard to care about where he was getting sex.

There was a loud thud at the door, and they heard footsteps down the hall. A couple men in leather zip-up suits reached them. "We found them!" one called.

"Hi, I'm Nova Centurion 1124 9-4 4 396," Richard coughed weakly. "Greetings, Terrans. This is… an… invasion." Then his eyes flickered shut, and this time, he couldn't be jerked back.

The next few hours was all a teary blur to Gloria. She and Charles rode together with their unconscious son in the back of a S.H.I.E.L.D. van, which turned out also to be a plane soon enough as it took off into the sky. Fortunately Richard's body didn't get taken over again; and Charles held Gloria in his arms as she sobbed and worried about both her sons. They came to a huge airship above the clouds which the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents seemed to be calling a helicarrier. They were led down a hall, and before she knew it, they two of them were sitting alone at a table in a dim room, waiting. "It's going to be okay," Charles whispered.

"It really is," put in a sudden, suave, somehow slightly familiar, voice; and an imposing figure stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. "I'm sorry it's so dark in here! Somebody didn't turn on all the lights." He flicked them on, and Gloria's mouth dropped open, her heart pounding in her chest. No wonder his voice sounded familiar. She had heard it on TV many times.

"Mr. Stark," Charles stammered beside her.

"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Rider!" he smiled, pulling up a seat and sitting down at the table across from them. "Please don't be intimidated by all the secret agenty stuff. It's not really my thing, either. But what can you say when your country calls upon you to direct S.H.I.E.L.D.?" He shrugged. "And please call me Tony. Personal matters call for personal names."

The couple nodded in awe. They were talking to the most powerful man in America after the president, and he wanted them to address him by his first name? _How did my day come to this?_ Gloria privately wondered.

"I'm really sorry about your son," Tony said, and he looked like he meant it. "I promise you, he will receive the best care money can buy.  
My specialists are examining him now. Agents from our S.W.O.R.D. branch have already been summoned to give further inspection."

"Thank you," both the Riders said, not quite in unison.

"It's my honor to help a fellow superhero," smiled Tony, still making no mention of the New Warriors, thankfully. "Now, it would be most beneficial to him if you could tell me everything you know about his condition…"

And that was how their meeting with the famous billionaire began. Charles spoke mostly, though Gloria added in whatever bits she thought were relevant. Together they related everything that Richard had done since he'd stumbled into their home, and everything the Worldmind had said. When they were finished, Tony thanked them, and led them to a nice waiting room with coffee and cookies. He actually accompanied them to ask for details on the seriousness of Richard's relationship with Gamora, to the point that Gloria felt sure he was jealous. That was amusing, at least, even though there wasn't much she could tell him. And time passed. Until, at some unknown time that night, something happened.

Shouts came from the hall. Loud breaking noises, footsteps. Tony leapt to his feet, frowning. "What the hell…"

Richard burst out from the steel hallway, breathing hard. An IV was hanging from his wrist, and he was dressed in a white hospital gown. His brown hair was a mess, and he glared. "Stark."

"Richard!" Tony seemed a bit taken aback. "Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D.; do you want to sit down? And please, call me Tony."

"Please, Stark," Richard said coolly, "I did not give you permission to call me Richard. We are not friends. I'm Nova, to you. And I'm exponentially more powerful than when I was last on this dustball, so don't be getting any ideas."

"Nova… do you want to sit down?" Tony asked carefully. Agents in white lab coats had followed Richard, but now all had paused, waiting for this all to play out between the two out-of-costume superheroes.

Richard took a few steps forwards, then looked away, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "I'd like to leave. I have business throughout the Galaxy, and maybe I should save Earth for last. It might just be the hardest, with so many superheroes."

"Okay," Tony replied slowly. "How about we talk it out?"

"What do you want to talk about?" Rich asked flippantly. "I tried that on Saakar. Didn't work out. And now I realize the truth, that people don't want to be saved. So, I've decided, people don't get a say anymore."

"But hey, even after I brewed you coffee?" Tony pointed out. Cue the stares. "Well…" he amended, "okay, I didn't actually brew it. But it did get brewed on my helicarrier, and that's virtually the same thing. So please Nova, can you tell me what's going on?"

Rich picked up a cookie and took a casual bite. "I just got back from winning a horrible Annihilation War. It was a close call, though, and guess who were some of our many many casualties? Every single other flarking member of the Nova Corps! And guess who got all their power? Me! And guess who has now bodily became the vessel for the entire Nova Force, to bend to his will? Bingo, me again! One last question… guess who is officially declaring himself ruler and supreme protector of the Milky Way Galaxy?"

"I really think we should talk about this together," Tony insisted. "I'm sorry you lost all your Nova friends. I want to help you."

"I don't need your help," Richard replied coldly. "Ironically, without the helmet, I'm even more powerful than when I killed Annihilus with my bare hands, can you believe it? It's difficult to tell on the outside because my mind is going everywhere and that toughens things, but I feel it in my soul. Stark, I don't even know what I am anymore, but it's definitely not human."

Tony tried again. "Excuse me, but there's a broken needle on your arm."

Richard looked down and yanked out the rest of the IV. "You finished?"

"No," Tony replied. "But do you think you'd rather talk to Justice? He's not here right now, but he's working for me now, and I can summon him."

"Why would I wanna talk to him?" Richard looked away. "And why is he working for you? How are the New Warriors these days, anyway?"

There was a dead silence.

Charles spoke. "Dead." The word seemed only to make the silence deeper, but he forged on. "All but that sinister Speedball boy got themselves and others killed living your kind of life. Please stop, Rich."

Richard's eyes widened in horror for a moment, then he pursed his lips. "I don't believe you. You never tell me please when you're talking about my hero job. And _sinister_ Speedball?" He laughed, and it actually sounded like legit supervillain-style maniacal laughter. "Speedball is the most non-sinister, empty-headed, shallowest child on the planet! He's the poster boy for America's failed education system mixed with an Angry Birds overdose. No offense to him, he's a hella loyal friend. But that's how I know you're joking."

"Rich…" Gloria said brokenly. How could she have given birth to a galactic conquerer? "It's true."

Richard stared at her, and started to munch on his cookie really hard. Then he spit it out and collapsed into a chair. "Namorita?" he whimpered, and Tony nodded.

"I'm so sorry. This is hardly the kind of news for you to come home from battle to."

"Oh my God, that's so unfair," Rich whispered, tears beginning to well up in his eyes. "Is the runt okay?"

Tony hesitated, then nodded, then shook his head. "I don't know. The ordeal took a bit of a toll on him. He was in jail, there was a failed assassination, he finally signed his culpability for the whole mess, now he's just… he's laying low. But you know Baldwin. He'll be… just fine and dandy, believe you me."

"Oh my God," Rich repeated brokenly, staring down at his hands. "What am I even doing? How could I…? I've become like Annihilus… like my enemy, all under the pretense of saving the universe. I thought I was a god… but I'm not. I couldn't even save Nita." He sniffled. "I'm just a warrior, a New Warrior. And right now, they need me. The ones that are left. And I'm gonna find Robbie Baldwin. If he's a wanted man on Earth, I'll just take him to another planet."

But then, Richard's mood flipped around, and it wasn't till it was done that Gloria realized what had just happened. One agent had fired a tranquilizer at Richard, who easily deflected it with a golden blast of cosmic energy like an annoying butterfly, but then leapt to his feet, looking emotionally betrayed — angry even. "What the… how dare you!" he cried, stomping his way right up to Tony Stark and grabbing him by the tie.

"Don't blame me!" Tony protested, pushing him away. "But now I can clearly see why your Worldmind didn't want you ever allowed to wake up!"

"I hate top-secret spy agencies!" Nova shouted. "How dare you play with my emotions like that, just to get a chance to take me off-guard!" Tony opened his mouth to say something else, but Nova raged on. "Stop toying with my mind! I _am_ a god now, as much as a Celestial! This system is mine now! Change of plans; Earth _is_ next on the list! I'm going to save you all, so please, do not make me kill you in the process."

Tony made a grossed out face, and Richard turned away.

"Richie!" Gloria called miserably, and Richard gave her such a hurt look that she wanted to cry. Then he raised his hands into the air, and sent an energy surge up into the sky, breaking through layers and layers of metal, before soaring through the path he had just made.

Tony cursed. "Damn him! Helicarriers are extremely expensive! Agents, prepare our most powerful missiles. Throw everything we've got at that little alien reject!"

"Don't hurt him!" Gloria couldn't help but cry.

"What's going on?" came a softly alarmed voice, and they looked to see a young man standing there in a mostly blue spandex uniform. Gloria recognized him to be one of Richard's former New Warrior pals.

Tony looked at him wearily. "Hello, Justice, you've arrived. Slightly late. I'm armoring up, that's what's going on. And we're taking down your old buddy Nova. No matter what it takes." He turned away sharply and walked briskly down the hall.


	12. Chapter 12

Rocket carefully placed another broken metal prison bar across the previous two, then pulled back his paws, crossing his claws that the little tower wasn't just going to topple, after all his hard work. A moment passed. And it didn't fall. "Flark yeah!" he grinned proudly.

"I am Groot!" his best friend cheered beside him, and Rocket nodded.

"This totally _is_ the most relaxing prison break ever! But it's more than just relaxation, it takes skill!"

"I am Groot," Groot agreed.

"Yeah," replied Rocket smugly.

Neither of them knew what that destructive skirmish between the Nova and the yellow guy had been about, but they weren't complaining. All the cells had been broken open, and almost all the prisoners had long since ran away, screaming gratefully at the sky, but not Rocket and Groot, the genetically-engineered-not-raccoon and his floral friend. They had all the time in the world, and they were no cowards! That was why Rocket had just worked so hard to finish building the most eloquent little tower of his life, by stacking the broken prison bars. He and Groot were very happy with it. It was even more impressive, since they had built it over the strange dark tubey mess that had grown over the yellow guy.

"I am Groot," Groot commented suddenly.

Rocket shrugged, gazing again hard at the tower's lumpy foundation. "I dunno, Groot. I wouldn't feel too sorry for him, though. He probably deserved it, if a Nova was after him."

"I am Groot," the tree pointed out ironically, and Rocket laughed. He did have a good point; they'd been chased after by Novas, too, some times in their life. Of course, this here had been a Kree prison, where minor transgressors of planetary law had been held. Emphasis on _had been_.

"We just get into an abnormal amount of misunderstandings," Rocket decided. He looked around at the rubble. "I'm getting hungry. We should go find a bar, or something. Kick back and relax." Suddenly he stiffened. "What's that?"

There was a movement on the edge of his vision, somewhere amidst the rubble. Rocket had extremely good eyes, but that was no use when somebody was that good at hiding. He heard Groot grow a few inches beside him.

Presently he heard a sigh, and a man came out. He was big and broad with enormous muscles, and his greenish-bluish skin was adorned with red markings. A big gun was in his hands, and the thought suddenly struck Rocket. This guy must be a law enforcement officer, here to gather them up.

Rocket's arms fell by his sides, annoyed. "Flark," he cursed. "How inconvenient. Just when I could really krutacking use a flarking gun, I'm fresh outta prison and got none to offer." He shrugged flippantly. "Lucky this flaaknard here's got one all out and ready for us! Groot?"

Groot towered a few more feet higher, but the alien lifted his weapon, prepping it with a steady locking sound. The gun lit up. He raised it, waiting in silence, as if planning not to fire until he was directly attacked.

Rocket scurried up the bark of his friend, settling to rest on his branchy shoulder. "Hey now, you can't just come up to Rocket and Groot with a big loaded gun, and not expect trouble," he gloated. "We take care of ourselves."

The man shrugged. "Have it your way, then," he obliged, in a strong, softly deep voice, and opened fire.

Groot bristled as the bullets dotted across his wood, and Rocket scampered along his many twisting branches like a squirrel, cheering for his friend. He just needed to wait until the right moment, somehow, when he could jump down onto this creep's head and scratch his eyes out, or something. Rocket's claws could be handy for fighting too, every once in a while.

The moment wasn't coming. The pair turned, ever facing each other, and it seemed as if the muscular man had the upper hand. But Groot was not to be underestimated. He reached out with a long-fingered tendril and grabbed the man around the neck. He coughed, and Rocket hopped expertly along Groot's arm towards him. But at that moment, the buff guy ripped Groot's hand in two, flipping over with surprising agility for someone as heavy-built as him, and still, crashing into the tower. If it weren't for Rocket's racoonish agility himself, he would've fell hard, but instead, he latched onto Groot again, only annoyed. But not just a little bit.

"My tower!" he shouted angrily. "Do you have any idea how krutacking long it took me to build that?"

The man started to get to his feet, scowling darkly, but Groot swatted him with a branch and he fell back down. Rocket whooped, hopped down from the tree, and snatched up the gun. He burst into a grin and opened fire instantly. "DIE!" he shouted.

The muscly guy rolled over hard and fell to the other side of the strange, now-slightly-cracked, foundation of the former tower, grunting. "Yes yes yes yes!" Rocket fired a few more rounds at it. Then he paused. There was a silence.

Suddenly the guy jumped out again with incredible force, barreling over Rocket straight into Groot, and leaving him sprawling backwards with amazing strength. Rocket rubbed his eyes, dazed, but he was aware of Groot throwing a punch at their opponent.

Suddenly they heard a moan, and Groot paused abruptly. Rocket blinked. It looked like a golden light was shining from the crack in that dark weird lumpy thing, and it was getting bigger. The other alien had now stopped fighting too, watching it alongside them.

Suddenly, there was a sharp tearing sound, and a burst of light flashed and nearly blinded them, before fading slightly slower. A naked yellow body rolled out of the hole, and almost instantly started gasping desperately for air.

Rocket tilted his head curiously to one side. Was this the same yellow man who'd been fighting the Nova? He guessed that was what made the most sense, but something seemed a little… off. Their muscular opponent was at the golden man's side right away, no longer paying any attention to the pair of them. Rocket exchanged glances with Groot. This was really none of there business. "You wanna, uh, get going, now?" he suggested, picking up the gun and slinging it over his back.

At those words, he heard a sound from on high, and Rocket felt a huge shadow fall over them; and he looked up, to see what looked like a large personal space ship, of Kree make. They must have been too distracted, first by their fighting, then by the yellow man's creepy bursting shell, to notice its approach beforehand. The ship soon jerked to a rough landing, immediately after which a metal ramp was rolled out, and a cluster of four people scrambled out.

Rocket's eyes glossed over each of them. A humanoid cyborg dude, a Zen Whoberi chick, and two more chicks who looked like they might be white Kree. Maybe _they_ were the law enforcement team. They did look, after all, significantly more Kree. Then who was the one they'd been fighting?

"Gamora!" that muscular one they were fighting shouted, looking up from the still-gasping yellow man. Relief was evident in his face at the sight of the newcomers. Apparently, they knew each other. "It's your boyfriend! And he's not well." He leaned over the yellow man, put his lips to his, and started to preform CPR. Rocket's heart skipped a beat. He couldn't be referring to the one and only Gamora, could he? This particular Zen Whoberi didn't happen to be the Most Dangerous Woman In The Galaxy?! Okay, maybe that was worth staying for. Neither Rocket nor Groot were moving a muscle.

"They're not together anymore!" the male cyborg shouted, dashing back into the ship and returning with some clear small machinery. "She's with Nova! Y'know, the last one, Rich! Although she did just call him useless a few hours ago." He pelted down the ramp, ignoring Rocket and Groot, to settle down beside the yellow man with his companions. "I thought you knew that, Drax," he added, giving the muscular alien a slight smile. As that one who'd they'd fought — could he actually mean Drax, as in, the Destroyer? — moved aside, the cyborg put the clear part of the device over his mouth, and pressed a button. The yellow boy's face was still a pale, unhealthy, lemonade shade; but now, his eyes grew less panicked. They started to calm down.

The yellow boy, yes… it was difficult to say. He was kind of in the stage of being both a boy and a man, Rocket guessed. He looked like a naked yellow teenager, with lithe muscles and tousled golden hair.

"You okay?" asked the cyborg pointlessly (the guy obviously couldn't talk at the moment). "You're going to be okay, Adam, my sweetsie little Adam boy. Holy das't, it feels so good to be able to talk to you condescendingly like this without worrying about you yelling at me. Please don't yell at me later. I might even apologize in a few millennia." It actually sounded like he was rambling to calm himself. Obviously, the metal in the right half of his face had nothing to do with improving his brain functioning. Like, IQ.

The white Kree girl with the short white hair was stroking the yellow hand, and Gamora said suddenly, "Do you want me to find you some clothes?"

Of course the guy — presumably Adam — didn't answer. His eyes were only half opened right now, and he was probably more focused on breathing than on the three young women around his fit naked body.

Rocket cleared his throat. "Hello? Uh, guys, me and my friend Groot were here first, before any of you, even Mr. Yellow, so this is flarking awkward for us all when you're ignoring the proper explanation for just about everything."

The other white chick, the bald one, looked up at him, and laughed. "Adam, it's a talking raccoon! And a tree-person!"

"I am Groot," Groot replied defensively.

"Like on Earth," she shook her head, still smiling. "I don't know if you've ever seen a raccoon, Adam, but they're basically giant rodents."

"Hey!" Rocket walked up to her, irritated. "I am not a raccoon! Whatever that is, I'm 100% not it! I'm Rocket! You are?"

"Oh." She smirked. "I am Moondragon of Titan."

"I am Groot," Groot introduced himself, and Gamora returned with a purple blanket.

"Best I could find," she told Adam smugly, wrapping it around him, and Drax shifted him for her slightly.

"Hm…" Rocket watched them, connecting the dots. "A Titan, like Thanos, the Big Bad?"

Moondragon frowned, and the white-haired girl placed a hand over hers protectively. "Your problem?"

"You are?" Rocket asked, and she answered.

"Phyla-vell, daughter of Captain Mar-vell, but now I am also Quasar. You were about to state your point?" She glared.

"Oh, flark," Rocket shrugged. "I lost that. I was gonna call you all the Thanos Squad, but the daughter of a Kree war hero doesn't exactly fit in with all that. So who are you guys?"

The cyborg looked up at him, and it was obvious he was trying very hard not to smile. "We're the Guardians of the Galaxy," he replied, and there was a silence.

"The krutacking _what_?" Gamora ruined the entirety of the drama.

Rocket burst out laughing. He couldn't help it; these people were just so lame! "You just came up with that on the spot?"

The cyborg looked around pleadingly. "It's not the worst name in the world, is it?" No answers. "Come on, guys, there's got to be something worse than 'Guardians of the Galaxy'…" He sighed. "Our team name. It's got to be that, or Star-Lord And The Fabulous Butt-Kickers. No other options."

"I vote Guardians of the Galaxy, out of those two," Phyla giggled.

"Awesome!" the cyborg beamed, as if everybody had just agreed how perfect it sounded.

"You're calling yourself Star-Lord again?" Gamora noticed.

The cyborg's face grew more somber, all of a sudden. "Yeah. I've been thinking about what Richard said to me, for a while. No point in moping about not being good enough for that title if I don't keep it on and try to live up to it." He smirked. "At least I know I'm better than my father, anyway." His eyes passed back over Rocket and Groot. "The name's Peter Quill. Star-Lord. Unfortunately, that's just a really pretty name for 'crown prince' in Spartax. I'm the leader of the Guardians of the Galaxy, because we're using my spaceship, courtesy of Ronan the Accuser."

"You are being ridiculous," Drax muttered.

"I'm not!" Peter protested, then sighed. "Oh, hey, Drax… there's something I need to tell you about Gamora's new boyfriend." Gamora opened her mouth and started to say something, but Peter cut her off abruptly. "And it's not _that_ kind of thing, so I have just as much right to tell it as anybody, if not more. Okay, so, I'm pretty sure you know that Richard killed Annihilus and won the War. Well, afterwards, in the hospital, he was getting all depressed, so I planned a party for him. I would've invited you if you weren't on the run, Drax. But we had Richie's little brother there, so that was funny. When Rich got drunk, he basically blew up the party. Everyone was alright, but he's a being of pure Nova Force now, which apparently he was trying to hold back before, so then he ditched his helmet and scrammed. Adam came after him, but that… well, that obviously didn't turn out well." He cast Drax a sideways glance. "Nova's gone totally nuts, and is a galactic-level threat. I'd like to save both him and the galaxy, if possible. Any ideas on how to do that would be most welcome!"

"Hm." Drax looked at him steadily for a few moments. "You say… we'll be the Guardians of the Galaxy?"

Peter nodded. "Uh… yup?"

Drax reached out his hand, and clasped his. "If you are so sincere on your mission, I will gladly follow you as a part of the team."

There was a silence. Then Heather slapped her hand over theirs. "I'm with my dad," was her words. Phyla placed her hand overtop.

Gamora sighed, and was just lifting her hand, when Adam stretched out, and put his hand in the pile, rolling over with a smug gleam in his fluorescent eyes as he stared at her. Forever Adam. Gamora rolled her own eyes. "Great, now I'm last." She put her green hand overtop Adam's yellow one. "Not that I feel any shame to not be overexcited to follow the leadership of Peter flarking Quill."

"I am Groot!" Groot announced proudly, puffing out his chest with prickles, and placed a freeing hand over Gamora's. They all stared at him. Including his best friend.

Presently Rocket sighed. "Well, sweetheart," he told Gamora, "at least you ain't last. And after Groot's inspiring words, neither is he!" Rocket placed his paw on the very tippy top, and they all kept their hands there, as if in position.

Peter frowned at the two last ones, especially their orange attire. "You're criminals, though. Convicts. We don't need more convicts."

"Seriously?" Rocket sighed as loudly as he could. "We were in jail for hot-wiring a spacebike! What's more innocent than that?"

"It is petty; nothing compared to what you went to the Kyln for," Drax pointed out to Peter. "Nor anything compared to what I am wanted for."

Peter sighed. "But if there's anything worse than homicidal maniacs like us, it's lowlife crooks like them, right?"

Drax raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.

"You were in the Kyln?" Rocket pursed his lips. "You must have some serious power going on inside that little frame of yours."

"Maybe," said Peter tactfully, "but what's certain is that I don't want to talk about it, Ranger Rick. Do you two woodland creatures sincerely want to save the universe from the last of the Nova Corps?"

Rocket smiled at him, as gorgeously as he could. "I never liked them Novas, anyways. Uh… sorry 'bout Gamora's boyfriend, though."

Adam coughed and said something that Rocket couldn't make out, and that he doubted anybody else could either. But judging from the look on that yellow face, wasn't something that really mattered anyway.

Peter frowned. "We're saving Richard. The Guardians of the Galaxy need to guard the Galaxy from Nova, but that includes guarding Nova from himself, too."

Rocket gave him a funny look, but Groot was a bit more eager. "I am Groot," he promised.

"It sounds exciting," Rocket added. "I'm sincere, Starboy. Let's flarking go!"

"Okay then!" A grin burst across Peter's face. "Oh, and it's Star- _Lord_." He leapt to his feet, the first to pull his hand away from the pile. Drax and Gamora helped an unsteady Adam to his feet, and slowly, together, the seven Guardians of the Galaxy made their way to the ship.

"Now…" Peter mused, as he first stepped inside as leader, looking back at his team with pride, "now that we're all assembled, the detail to determine, is… where the das't exactly are we headed next?"


	13. Chapter 13

Vance watched in confusion as Tony strutted angrily past him. He looked at a few of the agents nearby. "Why does he want to take down Rich?" he asked worriedly. "Was it about registration?" His eyes passed over two vaguely familiar middle-aged faces, and he smiled painfully. It was Richard's parents. Rich never seemed to think much of them, but deep inside, Vance had always envied Rich for having such a nice family. So much. "Mr. and Mrs. Rider?" he greeted hesitantly.

"Vance," Mrs. Rider returned, and Vance swallowed, anxious.

Mr. Rider spoke up. "Richard's being mind-controlled by an alien computer!"

Vance's eyes widened. "Like a techno organic virus?" He didn't exactly make a point of keeping up with the affairs of the mutant community, but even he knew of futuristic soldier Cable son of Cyclops, and the infamous techno organic virus which inhibited the reaches of his mutant abilities.

Mr. Rider stared at him blankly for a second, as if Vance hadn't just been speaking English. "Say what?"

Vance shook his head blankly, then turned away and ran after the S.H.I.E.L.D. director. "Tony?!" He ran up and down the halls, but he couldn't find him.

He heard loud blasts that echoed through the helicarrier, and he paused, alarmed. Then he ran to the artillery room. It was buzzing with S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, running to and fro, loading up cannons and readying missile launchers. Vance stared. Then he shouted. "What the HELL are you doing?"

Some of the agents paused for a moment, but they didn't stop their work. "Following orders, sir," one drawled as he walked past.

"Just call me Justice," Vance said tightly. "What are your orders, and do I have the authority to override them?"

The agent stopped and turned back to him. "We're taking down Nova. And no, Justice, you don't. Our orders come from Iron Man, and the words of Earth's most minor Avenger isn't much compared to the director of S.H.I.E.L.D.. No offense. Now if you don't mind, I need to get back to work."

Vance grabbed the guy by the shoulder. "Where's Tony?"

The agent sighed. "We're supposed to be ready, so we can fire everything, either when Director Stark gives the signal, or if he looks beat and looses radio contact. In the meantime, you see, he's meeting Nova in hand-to-hand combat."

"Thanks," said Vance, and he got himself gone without another moment. Tony was armoring up! And he might already be on his way; Vance had taken some time with that agent. He ran up the stairs and sprinted up the first few, before throwing himself into the air and flying the rest of the way up the stairwell. Much faster. He burst through the door, and set his feet down on the flat roof deck. It was windy, and he squinted up at the sky.

Tony was already out there! And if Vance was right, that was his Hulkbuster armor he was wearing. Holy crap. This was Richie here — who did Iron Man think he was facing? Richard was in the sky, too, and was actually a kinda funny sight. He was floating, hands on his hips, wearing a hospital gown, encased in an aura of golden cosmic energy. Granted, Vance was impressed. Rich's hair blew around him in the wind, like a medieval hero. But his expression was sassy as heck, as he gazed through glowing eyes at Iron Man, who zoomed towards him.

"Stand down, Richard Rider," Tony commanded slowly, holding out his enormous hand repulsor as a warning. "Things can still be okay. Justice, Rage, Slapstick, Debrii, Firestar, Ultra Girl, and others are  
alive and well; and you can see them if you like. You can rebuild the Nova Corps here on Earth, as a branch of my Initiative. Just come back inside. You're not well."

"Oh, shut up, you backstabbing psychopath," Rich tilted his head back. "Unless you're about to surrender to me. Those are about the only words I wanna hear outta your piehole."

There was a pause. Then Tony sighed. "Oh well, then, Nova. I'm afraid you're out of luck. You'll be treated well in 42, though, don't worry. That's our new super prison. I hear the food there really doesn't suck!" With that word, he blasted Richard: not with his outstretched repulsor, but with the unibeam on his chest, a stroke which Vance knew required a lot of power. It seemed that Tony wasn't underestimating Nova, yet wanted to take him down right away, without a fuss.

Richard was hit head-on, and the force threw him backwards. With a silent gasp, Vance leaped into the sky, soaring towards them. The blast was loud. But then, Richard was laughing, as if nothing had even happened. Vance paused, watching. "Ouch! That's the best you've got?" Rich cackled like a stereotypical Spider-Man villain. Geez, what was the matter with him? Still laughing, he zapped Iron Man full of cosmic energy from his fingertips, with the casualest motion. The suit seemed to light up horrifyingly for, like, thirty seconds! Then Iron Man's lights all went off, and he started to fall. Rich grinned at his handiwork. Holy crap, seriously, what was the matter with him?! "Poor Iron Man," Richard gloated. "Was this piece of junk really built to take down the Hulk?" He clucked his tongue condescendingly. "I fought the Hulk yesterday, and I'm pretty sure he was tougher than you. Then again, you're both only human, and nothing compared to me."

The Hulkbuster crashed onto he roof of the helicarrier, and Richard descended slightly to finish his supervillain monologue. "I'm growing stronger, you know. Well, obviously I have the same amount of power; I've got the whole Nova Force, see, so there's no more power left for me to get. But I'm getting more in control of it, Stark! And as for my other weakness, that I wish so badly not to have to fight those I once called friends… I'm working on it. But I'm happy to say, Iron Man, that you and I have never had a 'friends' relationship. Say your prayers, if you're into that kind of thing. Because you're gonna die, unless you give me an apology and a surrender right now, which I don't think you're going to do. Any dramatic last words?"

"Fuck you, Rider," Iron Man spat.

Richard shrugged indifferently, but at that moment, Vance acted. He didn't know why he hadn't done something earlier. He leapt onto Richard's back, wrapping his arms around his neck from behind in a way that was both aggressive and brotherly at the same time. "Hey," he greeted through clenched teeth. "Long time no see, Richie."

"Yeah!" Richard's voice was suddenly very light, and he flipped Vance off him with ease that scared him a little. "I've missed you too, Vance! Lousy timing!"

"No, it's the best time!" Vance faked a smile, levitating himself evenly in front of his friend. "I thought maybe we could, like, go for coffee or something? Catch up, y'know." His heart was pounding in nervousness that he wasn't used to feeling in front of Nova. "You can talk about anything with me, y'know," he added. Something must have happened to make Richard be acting like this. Either that, or he was simply being mind controlled by an alien computer. "Have you been infected by the techno organic virus?" Vance asked suddenly as he remembered.

Rich gave him a funny look. "…No? Isn't that a mutant thing?"

Vance sighed in a friendly way. "It's just a virus that could infect anybody, almost like a computer virus that hacks into the body. And I was just wondering."

Richard raised his eyebrows. "No virus, I'm fine. Thing is, I'm Nova Prime, actually, and I need to demonstrate my dominance by destroying Iron Man. No, just kidding. That's not why he has to die. He's a treacherous jerk. Are you trying to distract me?"

Vance hesitated. Well, what could he say to that enlightenment? His voice was firmer when he spoke, "I think we should go. When you kill someone, they never really leave you."

Richard rolled his eyes. "Oh, so this is about the guilt stuff. It's too late for that. See, Vance, I've already killed someone."

Vance nodded slowly at this news, his heart pounding so hard he could almost feel the blood rushing in his ears. "So have I, as you know. And I find, all the more reason not to do it again."

Richard stared hard at him. "See, Vance, you got my respect and all, but that's where your blind sense of justice clouds you. What if it's a lesser of two evils?"

"What are you trying to accomplish?" Vance asked, trying not to feel offended. Now, this was getting somewhere.

Richard crossed his arms. "No less than trying to save the Galaxy. There was a war, and… I'm the last Nova now, I feel like I've been explaining this too many times lately. All their strength, all their power belongs to me. I have to honor their memory by upholding the purpose of the Nova Corps. I have to guard and protect the Galaxy, and… Iron Man won't let me do it. His stupid Initiative is preventing me from overseeing everything. Also, he's a backstabbing psycho."

"Oh." Vance could easily picture Tony not wanting Nova to 'oversee' all his shady secret legal affairs. Especially not to intermediate if he didn't like what he saw. Vance wasn't sure he even felt comfortable with it, either. "Rich," he said, "what the Initiative covers was never the Nova Corps' jurisdiction. You don't have to protect everyone from themselves. Just… from alien attacks, and stuff. Besides, you're just one man, and they were at least in the thousands, right? I'm so sorry for your loss, I can't even imagine, but you have to understand; you can't be too hard on yourself."

"I'm _Nova_!" he cried, distressed. "Galactic hero! That's the only thing I am, all I've ever been that matters!"

"You've been my friend," Vance pointed out, hoping that would help. It didn't.

Richard stared at him for a moment, and Vance could practically see a lightbulb going on in his head. But not the good kind. "Hey, didn't Tony say you were working for him now?"

Vance's heart thudded frantically. He felt he might have a full-blown heart attack if that didn't stop soon. "I answer to him. Technically. But that doesn't mean I'm with him."

"He won the Civil War, didn't he?" Richard frowned. "And now he's enslaved all the superhumans."

Vance winced. "I'm not a slave! Believe me, if that was true, I wouldn't have ever let it happen."

Richard shrugged. "Whatever. I still say he needs to die." He lifted his hands, but Vance threw up his own in instant reaction, and blasted him with a psychic forcefield. _Oh my God_ , he worried immediately after. Richard stumbled through the air, but it seemed to be more in surprise than anything else. Vance gaped. He was a fairly powerful mutant, and Rich had never been this resilient. He didn't even seem hurt. Richard's lips curled into a sneer. "Oh, so that's how you wanna play this, huh? Protecting your master? Damn, Supertights, he really has done a number on you." Richard flicked a finger, and Vance felt himself hit with a cosmic blast. He was stuck in the gut, and the wind was knocked out of him. He lost his focus for a moment and fell through the air. Then he regained it, and flew up to his friend resolutely.

"Richie," he began pleadingly, but Richard simply shot more energy at him. This time Vance was thrown farther backwards, but was falling less than a second before he zoomed back, gasping. It hurt.

"Please stay down," Richard murmured, and the sass was gone from his voice. "I don't wanna hurt you."

"I don't wanna hurt you, either," pleaded Vance, before adding, "as if I could. But I don't want you hurting yourself unintentionally—"

"I know what I'm doing!" Richard shouted angrily, raising his hands, and blasting him again. This time the pain was almost unbearable. He felt kinda like he'd been electrocuted and rolled over by a monster truck at the same time, as well as punched in the ribs by the Hulk. His vision was fuzzy, and he was falling, falling. Richard zoomed down and grabbed him by the front of his uniform, then drew his drooping head up close to his own face. "You idiot," he practically hissed, so Vance could feel his hot breath on his cheek, "or are you another a backstabbing traitor? I thought you were my friend. But no. Maybe you need to die, too. I would say this isn't personal, Vance… but really, between old pals like us, how could it not be?" Well, that sure was the definition of a mood swing. Vance blinked blearily up at him. Was he really about to die? By the hand of Richard Rider, of all people. For some reason, in that moment, Vance was feeling way more sorry for Richard than for himself. Of course he didn't want to die, but even more he didn't want his friend to face a fate worse than death… a lifetime of corruption and guilt. He wished he could've helped him. He hoped that at least, when he was dead, maybe Richard would realize what he had done, and stop his crazy dark crusade. Hopefully. At least then Vance's death would mean something. Vance let out a weak breath. His heart wasn't thudding so hard anymore. He wasn't so scared.

He waited, but the death blow never came. At that moment, he noticed dimly, Rich seemed distracted. Vance could hear a noise, that was soft, but like a million winds riding at a million miles per hour. Richard swallowed audibly. "Missile," he hissed. "Looks like its lock is on me. On us. Supertights!" he yelped the old nickname suddenly, and Vance could just barely see his face looking in his own. He felt a gentle slap to his cheek. "No time to set ya down," Rich mumbled, slinging Vance onto his back. Vance blinked in surprise, but held on with all his might. Wow, he didn't even know he had the strength for that. There, like, _right_ there, was giant missile, practically glaring at them with immense speed and malicious intent. Richard dipped backwards and wrapped his legs around it. "Hang on, Vance," he muttered. "I've got this." He grabbed it with his arms now, then swung his body upwards and let it go, to shoot into the sky. "S.H.I.E.L.D. idiots!" he muttered. "Don't they see that I would survive this easily, but Vance wouldn't? Do they _want_ to kill their own guy?" The missile exploded overhead.

Richard swung Vance off his back, and held him more securely in one arm, over his shoulder. Vance still felt horribly bleary, but at last now he could form a few words. "Rich? I…"

"Shh," Richard said softly. "Don't try to speak. It'll all be over soon." Before Justice had time to figure out what he meant by that, he was aware of Richard launching a series of cosmic Nova blasts at the helicarrier, starting with the weapons launchers, but moving onto everywhere else. Vance got the feeling these were much stronger blasts than had been used on him. The helicarrier was falling apart. Some smaller airships — like escape pods — started to leave, but Richard didn't bother them. He focused on the helicarrier, which then — along with the Hulkbuster Iron Man — started to fall. At last, still carrying Vance, Richard flew a little ways away, and set him down on some… was this sand? Vance stared at him, struggling to focus. "Rich," he said weakly yet firmly.

Richard didn't answer. He just leapt up into the air, and the human rocket blasted away. A minute later, Vance passed out completely.

It was a deep sleep, a peaceful dreamless slumber, and he woke up with a clearer head and stronger body. He sat up. Well, he was still sore all over, but he did feel considerably less horrible now. And he was on the beach — still. The thing about lying in the beach is that nobody is likely to come check if you're okay. Lots of okay people lie on the beach, to sunbathe. Vance wondered if that was why Richard had chosen this place.

Vance got slowly to his feet, and stretched his arms above his head, gazing at the crashing waves. He wondered what Richard was up to now. After all that… fighting, mood swings, possible changes of heart… maybe he had gone somewhere to be alone with his thoughts. That did sound like the most reasonable thing to do. He tried to think of somewhere Richard might go to do that, and after a few minutes, there was only one place he had come up with. Not definite, but it was worth a shot.

Vance set out on foot, aware that he probably looked a little gaudy just strolling along in his superhero suit, but he was too tired to do anything about that. He was going to go find Richard.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Robbie Baldwin chapter, Penance baby! :0 So, this chap is MAJOR tw for self-harm, okay guys!! It's also like reeeaalllly long compared to my other chapters. Like 2 times as long.

Penance sat in the back of the Zeus with three of his fellow Thunderbolts, slouching uncomfortably as he gazed at the floor, his shoulders slumped forwards in a lazy posture. He didn't want to look at his teammates if he didn't have to; he wasn't in the mood for talking. He was never in the mood for talking. Fortunately, right now the others didn't seem to be either. Moonstone was sitting across from him, her long blonde hair tucked over one shoulder, her knees drawn up on the seat, as she was engrossed with something on her StarkPad. Radioactive Man sat beside her, gazing deep into space, as if he was thinking deep thoughts. And Venom sat beside Robbie, mumbling under his breath, clearly in his own world.

So, partly, was Robbie. He tried to focus on the now-familiar pain, the intensity, which lulled all over his body from the spikes in his armor, and he pressed his arms crossed over of his chest. He tightened them slightly, forcing the spikes to dig deeper into his skin, setting his nerves on fire.

 _For the innocent children of Stamford. For the innocent children of Stamford._ He felt his powers surge satisfyingly through him, readying him for whatever fight awaited. Still, nothing could combat how exhausted he was, from too many restless nights he reliving the last day of his New Warriors' reality show again and again in broken nightmares. He wasn't even sure he knew what the Thunderblolts' mission was at the moment, or even what city they were heading to. He had walked into the jet in somewhat of a daze. Dammit, why did he _always_ zone out? That couldn't be productive for his penance, right? Robbie was no expert on penance, but doing it the way he was doing felt right, it filled something important inside his soul that the explosion had burned away, and he was going to keep on doing it for as long as he could imagine. Until he was dead, probably. He didn't see a future for himself, and that didn't bother him.

Suddenly Karla giggled. Robbie didn't really like her giggle — he never had, it sounded creepy and evil – but now it helped keep him alert. He frowned up at her, and Chen turned his head as if to try and get a look at what was on her StarkPad. At first she jerked it away, then she backtracked and showed him. "Whatever. It's all over the news, Chen," she commented in her honeysuckle voice. "That, I tell you as the field leader of the T-bolts, is what we're going up against."

Chen's green eyes widened for just a moment, as if in shock. It took a lot to get that sort of reaction out of Radioactive Man. "He can do _that_? What are his power levels again?"

Venom slid over to Karla's other side to get a peek himself, and she grimaced. "Don't smother me, Gargan. Your symbiote is disgusting."

A few black tendrils recoiled firmer against Mac's body. "Why don't we have the whole team for this job?" he whined.

"Because any number Thunderbolts are proper heroes who know how to do things right," Karla answered dryly. "At least, we're supposed to be. Hey, Baldwin!" she looked up at Robbie suddenly, a smirk on her face. "What's your professional opinion of our mission?"

He shrugged. He still didn't know what it was, and he didn't know why she cared what he thought. She wasn't the type. Also, he didn't like being called Baldwin. He'd never really been called much singularly by his last name till he'd went to prison, not till his life had changed forever. Besides, these days, he was only Penance. 'Penance' reminded him of how he'd done such a horrible thing and how he still needed to atone; 'Baldwin' on the other hand just made him sound like a loser. Dammit. He _was_ a loser.

Karla was still watching him. Hella uncomfortable, again, why the fuck would a woman like her care what his opinion was?? Robbie clenched his arms harder against his chest, privately inhaling the agony like water to a man in the desert. It made him feel alive, and like him being alive was still worth a bit. If he couldn't take back his sin, at least he could pay.

Karla smiled sardonically at him. "Well, come here. I want to know what you think. Sit beside me, it'll get Venom farther away from me."

Chen rolled his green eyes, obviously annoyed with Karla. "Penance, it wasn't previously specified, but it looks like we're dealing with an old friend of yours. But we trust you can handle that."

Oh. Shit. Well, Robbie couldn't say he was that surprised. When he'd signed on to hunt unregistered superheroes, he'd known this was going to happen sooner or later.

Karla smirked. "Why Chen, you spoiled the big reveal! But come on, Penance, you should see this. This is streaming live."

Reluctantly Robbie took off his helmet and got to his feet, taking a few steps to stand over Karla. The three were watching a news video on silent, but it looked like a massive helicarrier was being destroyed. "Who is it?" he asked.

She pointed. "Wait one second, it'll show him again, there!" A tiny figure was hovering in the sky, one arm raised, while the other arm might've had something in it; glowing brightly like a meteor in stasis; only lightning and photons sizzled about him, streaming out in glorious rays of power. It was impressive. "They were shooting missiles at him earlier," Karla explained. "They've either run out of ammo, or their systems are just… too damaged."

"He doesn't have a costume," Penance observed flatly. He hadn't got a real glimpse of the face amidst all the light, but somehow, the arm movements, even the airborne stance, the fighting style, it seemed extremely familiar… only about a thousand times amplified.

"Yeah, I wouldn't've recognized him," Karla spoke casually, "but I thought you were supposed to know these guys. You could try looking at the headline, y'know." She scrolled down slightly, and Robbie saw it.

"Richard," he breathed, shocked. Then he stumbled back to plop down at his former spot, and put the helmet back down over his spinning head, as if to shut out the horribly insane reality. It didn't work. He tried to avoid Moonstone's face, grinning with sick amusement at his reaction. But… Nova? Richard Rider? Destroying a helicarrier? That didn't make any sense. Even if he was being targeted for not registering, he wouldn't destroy a helicarrier. He would probably just go back off into space, or something. He had a whole network up there, if what Robbie knew had any grounds.

"They say he's out of control," drawled Karla. "He's no longer considered an unregistered superhuman, but an alien threat."

Robbie knew Richard wasn't technically an alien, but he didn't say anything.

"Then why are we dealing with him?" Mac asked Karla. "Aren't we supposed to be capturing unregistered superhumans?"

Karla raised her eyebrows loftily. "Well, he _was_ a New Warrior. And several teams are being called to combat this. At some point."

"Then why aren't Songbird and Swordsman here?" Mac insisted. "I'm not complaining. I'm just pointing out that it wouldn't look great on TV for us to rush in head-on, only to get obliterated. That publicity shit's supposed to be important, right?"

"Obliterated, huh? New Warriors _do_ have a history of obliterating things… like towns. What do you think, Penance—" Karla started, but Chen interrupted.

"Would you stop teasing him? We all need to be in the game here, if we want to defeat this target."

Karla looked at Chen scathingly, and Robbie looked at him too. That had been awfully nice of him, not that he'd needed it. Nicer than he deserved. "I'm not teasing him," she said. "I'm above teasing crying emo kids, who do you think I am? I'm your field leader for heaven's sake, and you will be respectful. I'm prepping you guys for the fight."

Robbie felt his jaw clench. Chen nodded. "My apologies," he said, though he made it very clear through his tone that he didn't mean it in the least. "Well, I think we're prepped."

Karla nodded. "Good. Now, Robbie, is there anything we should know about Nova before we engage him? His powers seem to have evolved since his files were last updated. Do you know anything about that?"

Robbie shook his head. He had no idea how Richard even had the ability to take down an entire S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier. He had always been a pretty human rocket, but with not much more power than, say, that of the other human rocket, Cannonball of the X-Force. Karla was still looking at him, however, and then, Robbie thought of something. "Like most superheroes, Nova doesn't kill innocents," he said. "He'll go out of his way to keep civilians safe. And he doesn't like to kill _anybody_. Definitely not us." Oh man, had he actually said that? It sure sounded shitty to use that against him.

The other three Thunderbolts exchanged bemused glances. "Those agents are helpless, by this point," Chen pointed out. "The helicarrier's not empty."

Robbie shrugged, but he was struggling to focus. Everything seemed surreal. "Maybe he's a Skrull. He _has_ been in space."

"Maybe," Moonstone sarcastically agreed. "It shouldn't, but sometimes your jumbled brain really gets on my nerves, kid. How the hell could a Skrull be this powerful?"

"Super-Skrull?" Chen suggested.

"Galactus-Skrull?" Mac put in, and Radioactive Man chuckled at that.

Robbie watched the pair laugh, and he pondered the situation. His Skrull theory really didn't seem likely, to be honest. It could be mind control… Robbie just hated the idea of the alternative. What could Richard possibly have gone through in space to cause him to act like this? No… just _no_. It _had_ to be mind control. He really hoped it was mind control… he didn't want Rich to be, like… to be damaged inside. Richie was a great guy. He deserved better.

He clenched his thigh, clutching onto the pain as he started to shake uncontrollably. _Stop it._ Oh God, though, _Nova_. Robbie saw Karla open her mouth, as if to say something to him, only to change her mind and close it a second later. Good call. He had the idea that — although she had been seriously riling him up with her words — even she was somewhat wary of getting him _truly_ angry, up here on a jet, of all places. And he was grateful; he didn't want that, either. He hated the prospect of her joking about something as serious as Stamford; the children he'd basically _killed_ deserved better than that; and, well, it was ironic, but if he was very honest with himself, Robbie really, really didn't want more pain inside than he already felt. He pressed his arm harder against the spikes to punish himself for this thought, and more power surged through his veins. Of course, the most important thing, he knew: when he was angry, he couldn't control it these days. He just wasn't the way he used to be. And if he blew up this plane and it crashed into the city below, well… he just couldn't bear to be responsible for another tragedy.

 _Stop shaking_ , he commanded himself silently, but he couldn't. So instead he drew his legs up on the seat, and sat there silently, pressing his knees against his chest. There was barely any chatter for the rest of the trip. Fortunately, it wasn't long before they got there — New York City — and even more fortunately, they landed by the waterfront. Robbie stood up instantly, relieved to be getting out.

Karla rubbed her hands together and scrolled on her StarkPad. "So they've lost him now, and though some S.H.I.E.L.D. flunkies used escape pods, their systems were all too damaged to track him…" She frowned. "Okay, looks like a typical hunting job for the Thunderbolts. Capture and detain."

Capture and detain. Poor Nova… As she talked, Robbie turned and ran impulsively to the door. As he absconded from the jet, he heard the shouts of his fellow teammates behind him; and he almost doubted himself. But this was something he _had_ to do. This wasn't a relatively-simple problem of registration; Richard needed serious help. And Robbie knew maybe he was the last person likely to be qualified to give it, but he had to try, because he was his friend. If there was any chance Richard had been traumatized by something in space, he just couldn't let Moonstone be the first to get to him.

He broke out into a run almost immediately. Alarmed civilians stared, but he barely noticed them. More importantly were the Thunderbolts, because he really didn't want to have to explain himself to them; he would probably end up questioning his own motives, and he might even end up bringing them along. Robbie turned down the narrowest, least-noticeable alley in sight, and kept running. He knew this place, though he had been an entirely different person when he'd last walked it. He ran, traveling alley to alley, as he roughly followed the waterfront. He barely noticed how much he was sweating under his heavy Penance costume; heck, he barely noticed the pain he normally craved. He was just too focused, to worried about Richard. And of course, he didn't know where Rich was, but if Richie was on Earth, and he wanted to lay low, apart from everyone, Robbie had a pretty good idea of where he might have headed, where he'd feel safe.

It wasn't too long before he got there, and he stopped, panting. He looked over his shoulder. The Thunderbolts hadn't followed; they probably had no idea where he had gone to, and were likely wondering if he'd finally gone completely off the deep end. Robbie _almost_ wondered the same. But no, Richard was too important. Also, agents had left in escape pods, Karla had said. Richard hadn't killed anyone, probably. Robbie was desperate to save him before something really bad happened. And if it already had? He still had to save him, because all this, none of this… it couldn't be Richard's fault. He was too good a person. Too unlucky.

Robbie gazed at the building. It was roomy, but it wasn't suspicious. Just an unremarkable still-unfinished factory on the outside, but filled with so many memories. It was what the New Warriors had called the Crash Pad, and had been their headquarters, owned by their leader… Night Thrasher… In that moment, Robbie couldn't keep back a flashback to the tragedy, that was far more painful than the spikes. Night Thrasher's blood was on his hands. Night Thrasher, Namorita, Microbe… okay, okay. Oh man. Oh man. Oh. Man.

Anyways though… anyways! He didn't know who the place belonged to now, if anybody. But fortunately, he didn't feel he had the time to think about it. Robbie sprinted purposefully to the door, and put his hand to the door handle. He turned it slowly. It was unlocked.

"Hello?" he called, peering in, but it was completely dark. His heart sank. "Hello?" he repeated, feeling for the light switch. Suddenly he felt a soft hand over his gloved one, and somebody else turned the light on. He blinked, and stared.

Richard Rider was actually standing there, chin raised a little loftily, dressed in the same mildly-worn hospital gown he had seen on Karla's StarkPad. His hair was a little different, maybe, it wasn't easy to tell when he kept it short like this. But other than that, he looked about the same. His eyes were closed, though.

Then he opened them, and they glowed with an intense light that made Robbie wince. "Sorry for the cosmic-powered lightbulbs," Richard apologized, and even smiled slightly. "The eyes are a window into the soul, they say. What do you want? If you say you're from Tony, I think I might kill you. So really, don't say that."

Robbie's heart was pounding. From what he was saying, Richard didn't sound okay, no matter how smoothly he was saying it. Robbie took off his helmet. "I'm not with Iron Man," he confirmed softly.

Richard's mouth fell open. His eyes widened, though that looked a little weird with how bright they were. But that lighting seemed to dim now, to a more reasonable level. There was a silence in the room.

"Oh my God, Robbie!" Richard choked out at last, looking unsure whether to hug him or just keep staring. "I was going to look for you! Although he wasn't being the most trustworthy, Stark told me what happened to the Warriors, it's horrible! He said you were laying low, but it looks like you've just been playing knight in a new suit while I was away. You're bleeding! Here, let me help you fix that up."

Robbie pulled slightly away, feeling awkward. "Thanks, Rich, but I'm okay. Look, I saw you on the news."

Richard only continued to fawn about Robbie. "And your hair! It used to be so long! You look so serious, Toothpick. Are you out to get me too?"

 _Toothpick?_ Robbie hadn't heard that name in a while. He shook his head with a sigh. "I was worried about you."

"I'm probably more worried about you," Richard retorted in a soft, sing-song voice. "Seriously, you're bleeding. Even from the holes in your armor. Gimme that a second." He snatched the helmet hard from Robbie's grip, and peeked inside. Then he flung it across the room, looking suddenly very sick and very much in-pain. "What the hell, Pipsqueak?" he whispered. Robbie looked away for a second in embarrassment, trying to think of something to say. Richard yanked off one of his gloves and turned it inside out. "Robbie!" he shrieked. "Are you _insane_? Have you been _punching_ people with these on?"

Robbie knew what Richard was referring to. Each of his gloves had four spikes on the knuckles, so that each time he threw a punch, he would remember Stamford, feel the pain of the people who'd died there because of him. It was a righteous thing. Rational. It made logical sense as punishment, even if Richard was clearly blinded by their friendship. Robbie reached out sharply for his glove back, but Richard just threw it away towards the helmet. Robbie glared at him, overloaded with unwanted shame, and that made him angry. Not at Richard, really, but yeah, kinda at Richard. "This is not about me!" he shouted, and he felt it all through his body. Richard obnoxiously reached for Robbie's other glove, but Robbie shoved him roughly away, thankful for the physical pain that gave him. He could use it. But then his anger died out like a candle flame, and suddenly the main emotion he felt again was pure sadness. Sadness for _Rich_. "Please don't try to make this about me, Richie. I saw you on the news. I wanna know what's up."

Richard gazed back at him, clearly not listening, the pain reflected in his own eyes. "Are there more spikes in that suit?" he whispered hoarsely. "Like, all over?"

Robbie swallowed, wondering what to say. He didn't know what he could get away with saying. Presently he decided on the truth. He couldn't bring himself to say anything else, and besides, that might have consequences. "Yes," he muttered, "but don't feel sorry for me. I'm not really the same guy you used to know, not anymore."

Richard swallowed. "Will you take it off?"

Robbie gazed hard at him. "If I do, will you let me help you?"

"I don't need help, let alone from a guy with your… problems," Richard replied awkwardly, and it took everything Penance had not to punch him in the face. Richard hurried on, "But yeah, sure, I'll explain the whole destroying-that-helicarrier thing, if that's what you're wondering about."

"Okay then," Robbie agreed tightly. "But do you have anything else to wear?"

"Oh, uh," Rich looked awkward. "I don't know, I'd have to look around. But God, Robbie, this is… insane. Sorry. It's just… you used to be so… so much less of a masochistic nutjob. Sorry. Just… holy crap, please get that thing off."

Robbie sighed, annoyed with himself that he couldn't stop blushing, and slowly began to unstrap his armor. Richard watched him uncomfortably for a moment, then — as if unable to hold back — he reached out and began to help, yanking the straps and then gingerly pulling out the plates, careful not to rip through any more skin as the sharpest spikes came out. It still hurt though, and Robbie felt surges of power run through him each time a piece was agonizingly removed. That was the only good part of this. The fabric came off last, after Richard checked to see if it had spikes too. Of course it did.

When it was done, Richard looked him up and down, his expression judging as Robbie had feared. Actually, he looked horrified. "Holy krutacking flark, Robbie. Blue blazes! You look terrible. What the das't happened to you? Why would you do this to yourself? You look… you look… like you've been through a flarking meat grinder!"

"Thanks," Robbie mumbled sarcastically, not even amused by all the cosmic language, and Richard swallowed audibly, as if just aware of the ungraciousness of what exactly he'd said.

"In the nicest way possible," he lamely amended. "But seriously, you need help." Then he ran off to rummage through the many drawers in the old Crash Pad. "Clothes. Nope, nope, nope… ooh, looks like some twinkies got left in here, still in their packaging! D'ya want one, Robbie? I saw a documentary one time about how twinkies never go stale, even when it's been years and years. Due to tons of preservatives, y'see; but you never worried about health, Toothpick." He looked up at him. "Sugar might help you feel better. I know it won't make everything right, but…" he trailed off, desperation in his eyes. He wanted to do something.

Penance tightened his jaw, feeling extremely uncomfortable in just his underwear. He didn't want Richard looking at his messed-up body. He really, really didn't. "Can I sit down?" he asked awkwardly.

"Oh yeah, of course!" Richard nodded, and Robbie went to curl up on the worn couch. "It's your headquarters just as much as mine. Probably more, since you're, like, technically the last active member." Instantly he winced, as if realizing how bad that sounded, then went back to his digging. "Hey, Dwayne had an extra suit in here! You want it, since you've gotten into the armor style?"

Robbie shook his head instantly. He couldn't bear how it'd make him feel to wear his dead friend's old armor, and he knew he wasn't worthy to, anyways. "Why don't you start telling me what's going on?" he suggested.

Richard glanced up briefly before continuing his rummaging. "Oh. So, I was also fighting a war. Annihilus lead his forces upon us from the Negative Zone, because apparently our universe has been expanding too much into his territory for his comfort. It was only after many long-fought battles and short-fought massacres of my peoples, only after so many were lost, after so many friends of mine died in front of my eyes while I failed to save them, but to skip to the end: I killed our enemy, and we won. Yeah. I know your Civil War was fought over stupid ideals, but was it bloody like my much-worse war? Or were you in jail at the time, so you don't know? Did they screw with you bad in there? Is that why you're hurting yourself? Robbie, you won't do it again, right? After I'm done telling this, you won't just go back to that suit?"

Robbie glowered at him. Of course he would, but he wasn't about to just say that to this unbalanced man. "You promised to explain. Now explain."

Unfortunately, Richard wasn't even given a chance for that. Suddenly the door burst open on its own, and moments later, their other old teammate Justice ran up to it, breathing hard. He entered, and the door slammed behind him with a slight wave of his fingers. His eyes went immediately to the couch and its occupant, and for a moment, he just stood there, gawking. His eyes travelled to the Penance costume, and back to Penance again, and something seemed to click. His breathing quickened, as if on the edge of hyperventilating. "Robbie? You — you're that new Thunderbolt," he got the words out.

Robbie pulled his knees over his chest, wishing he could hide his mutilated body. "So what, Vance? You've come to judge me too, huh?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Richard made a tight expression.

"Oh my God," Vance shook his head slowly, his breathing calming down with what looked like focused concentration; and he totally ran to sit beside Robbie, way closer than the latter liked. Well, he was being more cozy with him than Richard had been. That sucked with an incredible awkwardness.

Vance took another long breath. "Of course not, Robbie. I would never judge you. Have you been… hurting yourself?" He looked physically pained by the very idea.

Robbie tried to scootch away, but there was only so much he could do without outright getting off from the couch. So instead, just looking away, he growled, "That's none of your business." His heart felt sore, and his vision was fuzzy.

Suddenly he felt warm gentle arms on his raw skin, and realized with a jolt that that Vance was hugging him. _Definitely_ more cozy than Richard. Part of him was deeply touched, and amazed that Vance was actually unjudging enough to be doing this, as if they were the same old New Warriors kids who had just defeated a particularly creepy villain, because Vance could tell when Robbie was scared, even though he tried so hard to hide it with his jokes and his teasing and his smiles. But the other half of him was enjoying this for the sickest of reasons, relishing in the way that Vance's touching of his open cuts stung him. The two stayed there for what seemed like an immeasurable length of time, Vance's arms around Robbie, Robbie's head hesitantly against Vance's chest. Then Vance spoke. "I'm here for you, okay?" Well, that was a nice sentiment, Robbie supposed. Not that it did any good of course — it was probably best if Vance was nowhere near him, in reality.

"Thanks," Robbie replied, "and thank you for not calling me a masochistic nutjob, but I don't need anything."

"Whoever's been calling you a masochistic nutjob clearly isn't a real friend," Vance said with some reproach in his eyes that didn't seem to be directed at anyone in particular.

"Wow, thanks, Vance," Richard rolled his eyes sarcastically, and Vance jumped, startled. Evidently he hadn't even noticed Rich was there, and now that he did, he scrambled to his feet, looking on-edge. He raised his fists defensively. "Glad you're feeling better?" Richard offered in a small voice, with a half smile.

Vance glanced down at his fists, and lowered them slightly. Although, from his expression, that seemed like the last thing he wanted to do. Robbie guessed there was some bad blood going on between them. "Hi, Richard. You're who I came here looking for."

Robbie raised his eyebrows. "I came here looking for Rich, too. The Thunderbolts were deployed to help take him down, but on the news it looked like he just needed mental help."

"Says the guy who wears a costume full of spikes," Rich shook his head.

"Hey," Vance interjected, raising one hand. "Maybe we _all_ could use some mental help here, but for the moment, let's just concentrate on the fact that we're friends and we all want the best for each other. How about we all go to my place and get cleaned up?" His eyes didn't leave Richard, as if he was watching for any sudden movements, and his lips were pursed.

Rich tilted his head. "Are you mad at me?"

Vance raised his eyebrows. "Did I say anything to imply that?"

"Your expression is screaming it," Rich pointed out.

Vance sighed. "No, Rich, I love you, I'm not mad. I'm wary. But I don't want to be, and I'm not blaming you, Rich… I _know_ you, and I know the real you would never hurt me, not even with all the power you got now. So I can't be mad, even if I'm mad at whatever twisted thing worked its way into your soul to have outbursts like that. That answer your question?"

Richard pursed his lips. "I guess I understand your reasoning. And I guess I'm fine with hanging at your place before I finish saving the world. Not for long, though. I've got so much to do. Like, I can't even rest, I can't get it off my mind, that's how much I've got to do, saving the entire galaxy plus. It… it almost scares me, to be honest. But I guess I can make a short exception for a New Warrior like you. And I mean, if it _is_ a trap, it's not like I'm not powerful enough to break it. You saw what I can do."

"Yes I did," Vance acknowledged, but he looked more sympathetic.

Robbie stood up abruptly, suddenly getting nervous. And now that Richard had the much-more-helpful Vance, there wasn't any need for him there. "Well, thanks guys," Robbie stumbled through his words, "but I should go. The T-Bolts will be wondering where I am."

"You don't have to go back there," Vance told him, with more feeling in his voice than Robbie had heard in a long time. But he had to decline.

"But I do," he replied. "I'm not sure you could understand, but there's something I have to do there. I'm sorry you had to see me like this."

"Please don't," Vance insisted softly. "I don't think that team is a good influence."

 _Well, duh._ "I'm not a kid anymore," Robbie gritted his teeth.

"I know," Vance replied. "You can make your own decisions, unfortunately, and they are a government team that I can't go against. But like, what are you going to say to them when you get back? Even if you don't tell them you found anything, will they trust you anymore if you tell them you were looking to find and help Nova on your own?"

Robbie almost laughed. Like they thought much of him as it was. "That's easy. I had a dissociative episode and saw the Stamford tragedy all over again. I ran because I wanted to fix it. Trust me, they'll believe that."

There was an uncomfortable silence. Then Vance said, "Has that happened before, for real?" Robbie looked away bitterly, and Vance amended quickly, "I'm sorry. That was none of my business. Please, though. None of the terrible things that happened is on you. Not Stamford or the Civil War. You have nothing to atone for."

Robbie rolled his eyes bitterly. "Like you would know, Avenger. 612 deaths are on me, and there's nothing you can say to change that. I wish we could part in a nice way. But if not, I'm still going."

"Robbie," Vance put a pleading hand on his shoulder, but Robbie could feel that hand shaking. "You're right, I wouldn't know. I won't say I understand. But I know a _bit_. I know what it's like to hate yourself. I used to hate myself for being a 'mutie freak,' or whatever exactly I did wrong as a child to deserve… well you know, and… I know what guilt feels like, too. I know I didn't kill six hundred strangers, but I killed my own father. But you have to let it _go_."

Robbie paused — what could he say to that argument? Ha no, it was totally invalid, Vance was a saint. He looked Vance in the face. "I'm so sorry. But your dad was an asshole who deserved it. I killed little kids."

"You didn't… you didn't actually kill them," Vance insisted, his forehead creased clearly with pain. "It wasn't your fault. I know you might not be able to make yourself believe that, but I do. And I miss you, Robbie. We… we both lost Dwayne and Nita. Those of us left need to stick together. Please come with me."

Both lost… true, but that wasn't even a way to say it, was it? Because Vance had nothing to do with it, and if only Robbie had been even a little less stupid, they would all still be alive. _Robbie_ had stolen Nita and Dwayne from Vance and Rich and Angel and El and Sil and everyone, stolen six hundred souls from every person who loved them. And he really wanted to be with Vance and Rich, but that there just added to the reasons why he couldn't. He had to stay away from them or he was sure to hurt them more, even if he loved them (and damn he loved Vance) — he had to stay away, where he could pay. Besides, just leaving like that, it wouldn't feel right. God. Robbie could feel his whole body starting to shake. He tried to speak, but he couldn't, overwhelming guilt crashing over him. How did Vance have this much power over him?

And Vance was obviously so worried. He leaned forwards now, placing his arms gently on Robbie's bloodied shoulders, moved his lips towards the latter's ear. Robbie froze at Vance's soft warm breath whispering: "Richard is really unstable right now, in his head. I'd suggest we hang here longer, but I think I should take him home where I've got my things and… Robbie, I just think it'd be great if you'd come too. If I didn't gotta worry about Rich loosing it, maybe I could _make_ you stay with me, and (let's be real) _almost definitely_ I would try, but I know that wouldn't be right, so maybe it's best things turn out this way. Listen, I'm not calling you crazy, it's just clear you have a lot of very painful feelings, and I hate that — you're literally going to _kill_ yourself if you keep this up. But Rich is a literal danger to the entire planet, while I know all you want to do is make up for your mistakes. I love both of you boys, more than words can express. And I do respect you, Robbie. I just wish you'd have the same respect for yourself and let me take you home… not in a dirty way."

"Wow," Richard commented distractedly as Vance pulled back, "if that closeup whispering didn't look dirty, I don't know what does."

Vance and Robbie exchanged glances, and Vance facepalmed jokingly. Robbie fixed him in the eyes. He wasn't shaking anymore. He felt calmer now — he appreciated Vance having explained himself honestly, he appreciated Vance not talking down to him, like you couldn't believe. That was why Robbie nodded firmly, and forced half a smile. But that was too impossible right now, so he averted his eyes instantly. He had to leave. Part of him was grateful Vance wasn't in a position to stop him… part of him really wasn't.

He crouched down and pulled the blanket from under the couch that he only just remembered that he used to leave there. He wrapped it around himself. "I'm sorry," he said, and turned away, gathering up his suit and placing the helmet on his head. "I should never have come. I'll never be done my penance, so there's really no time to lose. Sorry if I traumatized you guys, but this is real life, and you should be positive." He paused, his gaze flickering between the two. "Hope you can… hope… hope you can persuade Rich to register, Vance."

He heard Richard's voice behind him as he headed to the door. "Should I stop him, Supertights?" He sounded somber, like he really didn't want Robbie to leave like this. "I think I should stop him."

There was a pause before Vance replied. "Let him go. He can make his own choices, and forcing him to do anything can cause nothing but more harm… I just wish…" He trailed off into what sounded like a sob, and Robbie stepped out and closed the door behind him quickly. He didn't want to hear that. It hurt, and not at all in the way he wanted to hurt. Poor Vance. But he would get over it.

Robbie walked away from the Crash Pad, feeling sad, tightening the blanket around his shoulders and digging his fingers into some of the spikes on the costume in his hands. He had some T-bolts to get back to.


	15. Chapter 15

The Guardians of the Galaxy were headed to Earth. It hadn't been an easy decision, and Gamora in particular had seemed dubious, but Peter had been firm on it, once an idea had came to him. He _wanted_ to go to Earth. It would always be his favorite planet; and besides, once he had suggested it, teen Adam Warlock had started nodding avidly, which had convinced the others (Peter's leadership didn't seem to be all that respected yet). Adam wanted to go to Earth, Peter wanted to go to Earth; so now, they were going to Earth. Richard had allies there, after all. Also, Adam had cosmic awareness. He might've been nodding because he knew for sure that Richard was on Earth. That's what'd probably convinced everyone, actually.

Suddenly, as if cued, Peter felt a tap on his shoulder. He jumped and whirrled around, to see Adam, standing on his own two feet, dressed now in his navy blue with the red lightning bolts, and looking pretty good! His skin was a healthy shade of yellow, and the rings of black around his golden eyes looked wider. He also happened to be a tiny bit shorter than Peter. Well, that was a first. And after the initial surprise, Peter smirked. "Hey, Adam. Feeling better? You can breathe now?"

"Breathe?" Adam tossed his hair with a proud stare. "Of course not. I've never breathed in my life. I was silently laughing at you the whole time you fretted about it." His voice seemed a bit different, somehow, and Peter realized that was because it sounded like it was still cracking. Like a teenage boy.

He laughed hysterically, and it was a few moments of Adam's ferocious glowering at him before Peter could speak again. "Even your _voice_! You're a kid!"

"Peter, I was created in the image of a grown man," Adam pointed out irritatedly. "I don't think your ideas of age apply to me." As he said this, though, he seemed to become a little taller to surpass Peter's own height, and Peter looked down to see that Adam was now standing on his toes. Well then, obviously Adam did care about how old he looked. That was funny.

Peter burst into another bout of giggles at this. "Seriously, Adam! This is the best thing ever!"

"As great as it was dumb that none of you realized I don't breathe?" Adam insisted. "That machine did absolutely nothing for me. My actual problem was that other interior organs were undeveloped, causing muteness and… great discomfort."

Peter grinned sillily at him. "What organs were those?"

"I'm not a biologist, I'm a philosopher." Adam turned away, switching on the holographic computer to look at the map. "Now if we can put this aside, Star-Lord, I assume you understood from my gestures that Rider is on Earth?"

Peter's eyes widened, but he nodded. Well, he had guessed. "New York City, am I right?" he asked. That was where all the action usually happened.

Adam frowned, zooming in on the planet. "This mainframe needs to have a more detailed map of Earth." He paused. "Being on a cosmic level, my awareness isn't always so accurate on smaller scales. But I'd agree. New York City is where Richard lives… and where the Avengers are." He sighed. Peter didn't think Adam liked the Avengers very much. "We are almost there, however," Adam said, walking to the large window. "Do you see it in the distance?"

Peter shrugged at all the specks in the sky. "I see Saturn, so that's something," he pointed at the gorgeous many-ringed gas giant as they zoomed by. "This is a good ship." He patted the console. "We'll be there really soon!"

"I still think it needs better maps," Adam muttered. He looked just like a broody teenager. And with that, Peter burst again into laughing.

He'd been right, though: they were almost there, and about ten minutes later, Heather was at the console, trying to find a place to land. In the end, she picked a relatively-quiet spot by the water — which may also have become less busy because of the space ship landing there. Peter pressed his nose against the window, taking in the view of the city that never sleeps. "Hello, Lady Liberty!" he smiled, as he gazed up at the giant green statue nearby. "Aren't you sexy today!" As he said this, he noticed a growing crowd of dark airships. Was that suspicious?

Rocket tapped him on the leg. "So, I haven't been here before, but I don't think it's any kind of normal behavior to be calling a symbol of Liberty 'sexy.'"

Peter glanced down at him. "Don't blame me for missing this place! Although actually, I'm more of a Southern belle." He whistled, put on his Star-Lord helmet, picked up his elemental gun and the super strength stun gun (for hopefully taking down Rich), and strode towards the door. The ramp was out, and he flung it open to saunter down.

Three costumed people stood there already at the bottom. A snooty-faced blonde woman in white-and-gold spandex; a green man in a containment suit; and… was that a big black symbiote?

Peter waved and started walking down. "Hello, Star-Lord here; how may I help you?"

"Unregistered superhumans?" the woman growled, in a voice that was incredibly both honeylike and ferocious.

Peter raised an eyebrow, and behind him he heard the tree say, "I am Groot."

"Sorry to rain on your parade, darling," said Peter, already not liking her much, "but we're _not_ super _humans_ — and whatever planetary laws you have don't apply to us. We're superb _aliens_. Get it straight."

"Thunderbolts, back down!" shouted another woman, who looked like a secret agent slash military officer, and with one last glare, the blonde costumed woman beckoned. "Come on, T-bolts. These alien losers aren't worth our time."

Peter raised his eyebrows as the trio left. Back in the day, people had used to be significantly more intimidated by aliens. Then again, that symbiote looked alien itself, even if the host it was attached was human. He sighed, seeing lots of people with guns and black jumpsuits approaching. Was this S.H.I.E.L.D., that Earth 'peacekeeping' intelligence agency? He wasn't sure, but if it was, it probably wasn't awesome news.

Rocket pushed past Star-Lord, and Groot followed. Peter hurried up to the bottom of the ramp, and soon all the Guardians were out. "We come in peace?" Peter offered lamely.

The woman who'd called down the Thunderbolts stepped out in front. She was dressed in another black jumpsuit — which Peter now noticed bore a symbol with an eagle — and she had short dark hair, and a no-nonsense expression. "I'm Agent Maria Hill, of S.H.I.E.L.D.," she introduced herself briskly. "Who are you, and why have you come? Three of you, I recognize from our database. Gamora, Adam Warlock, and Moondragon."

"Drax should be in there, too, most likely," Peter said uncertainly, glancing at Drax. "He's an Earthfaring guy. Like, in the Thanos-and-the-Infinity-Gauntlet thing. He died and came back to life recently, that's why he looks hotter."

Drax stepped forward. "Agent Hill."

"Oh," Hill gazed at him darkly. "Drax the Destroyer. Okay, then. Who exactly might you be, Star-Lord?"

Peter took off his helmet. "Just a space badass. Are you sure I'm not on your database?"

"A prince of a powerful empire," Phyla put in, and Peter blushed. He hadn't been planning on mentioning it.

"And what empire might this be?" Hill questioned, gazing at his face, and Peter had the uncomfortable feeling that she was studying the cybernetic part for weaponry. Well, she wouldn't find any.

"Bleh. My name is Peter Quill, son of King J-Son, Star-Lord, Crown Prince of the Empire of Spartax," he fully introduced himself in a bored voice, then sighed. "I'm sure you've heard of Spartax. My dad's probably tried to conquer you guys before. For all intents and purposes, though, I'm not his son. I use the title because it has deep meaning to me, and I like it."

Hill nodded. "You might be in the database. Even so, I suppose you haven't much bothered Earth."

"I'd never bother this nice world," he smiled. "In case you didn't notice that 'Peter' is kind of an Earth name, my mom was a human who my father abandoned and never offered to marry. So I'm not _totally_ weird."

"I see." Hill sounded mildly interested in that, but then she simply turned to Phyla-vell. "And you?"

"I don't want to be interrogated," she replied edgily.

Peter glanced at her sympathetically, then looked back at Agent Hill. "Good point. I may be a chatty guy, but you have no right to be _interrogating_ us."

Heather spoke up. "Who's in charge around here?"

"I am," Hill answered coolly.

"Where's Stark?" demanded Gamora.

"He's not available." Hill sounded even colder.

"Oh geez," Rocket sighed. "Can we just cut the krutacking small talk and get to the gem? Do you know where a Nova centurion called Richard Rider is? Or just any Nova, really, because apparently all those other schlags are dead now, making him the last."

"Do not call the dead schlags," Gamora glared at the furry little creature intensely. Rocket rolled his little red eyes, but he did look rather intimidated.

Agent Hill looked around at them all, and Peter got the feeling this bossy lady was actually starting to feel uncomfortable. Until now, Adam had been staring awkwardly everywhere but her and her agents, but now he sighed audibly, and met her eyes. "Where's Rider?" he demanded. "I know you have him. Speak. Your expression betrays your guilt."

"And so the interrogation turns around," Peter observed with mild amusement.

"I am Groot," said Groot.

Hill glared at Adam, and all the confidence was back. "You have no right to speak to me in that way, Warlock. If you care to know, you are less trusted by S.H.I.E.L.D. than either Gamora or Moondragon or Drax the Destroyer."

"I'm guessing that's pretty bad?" Peter asked innocently.

"Quiet, Quill," Adam scowled. "They can think what they want. No matter how many times I've saved their world."

"Have you aged backwards?" Hill suddenly asked him, and Peter started laughing. He couldn't help it.

Adam yelped in frustration, before adopting a sulky expression. "Ignore my appearance. Or blame those who keep on waking me prematurely from my cocoons, if you have to," he scowled. "Now give me Nova!"

"I am Groot!" cried Groot, looking from one person to another.

Phyla stepped forwards, hands raised in a show of nonhostility. Then she lowered them. "I'm sorry, Agent Hill," she apologized. "Look, I'm Phyla-vell, daughter of Captain Mar-vell. Adam's been moody lately, but he was awoken in very imperfect conditions, so it's not his fault—"

"Not my—" Adam started to interrupt dubiously, but Gamora shoved him in the ribs. Adam stared at his ex-girlfriend, obviously hurt more emotionally than physically.

Phyla took a deep breath. "Sorry for any inconvenience we've caused you. We only came to find Richard Rider; then we'll go."

There was a pause. Then Drax asked Hill, "Did Richard already fight you?"

Agent Hill nodded resignedly. "He fought Iron Man. Took down an entire helicarrier — a very large airship. What do you want with him?"

Peter winced. "Das't! Sorry about that. He's pumped up with the Nova Force and he did away with his mood inhibitors. He's kind of crazy, I guess."

"I'm aware." Agent Hill sounded detached.

Peter smiled. "Of course. Well, what we want is to to get him some good, hi-tech, medical assistance. Somewhere. Only this time, we'll know better and drug him up. A lot." He felt sad as he said this, but he knew, for the time being, it was possibly the only way, and he waved around his super strength stun gun as an example.

Agent Hill nodded. "Okay. Well, I wouldn't mind your assistance, if you know where to find him. He flew off."

Adam frowned. "He's still on Earth," he said softly, "and nearby. Meaning, somewhere on this side of the planet."

Hill raised her eyebrows, but nodded. "Good luck. You should move your vehicle, though. Manhattan Beach isn't a parking lot."

Heather sighed. "I know Terrans don't have parking lots for space ships, except private ones belonging to organizations like NASA."

Agent Hill sighed. "I meant, I'd like you to park it on S.H.I.E.L.D. property."

"Oh, no worries, we won't be here long," Peter gave her his sweetest smile, then looked back at his Guardians. "Now. What we need, is a flare."

"Groot?" Rocket said, and Groot smiled brightly. He lit up with many little golden lights, and burst them all up sparkling into the blue sky.

Peter stared at him for a moment. That had been… beautiful, actually. He really hoped to see it someday again at _night_. He smiled again. "Thanks, Groot. Hopefully Rich finds that interesting enough to warrant an investigation. Hill, was he injured?"

Agent Hill slowly shook her head. "I don't think so. His power levels were insane. Also, we have reason to believe he has one of our operatives taken hostage. Vance Astrovik, codename Justice." She paused. "They used to be on a teen superhero team together."

"Uh… uh? Aww," Peter snickered. "That's so cute! A teen superhero team! Hey Adam, maybe you should join!"

Adam looked at him hard. "I would appreciate it if you _don't_ tease me in front of the enemy."

That did it. Peter was guilt-tripped. "Right," he nodded sheepishly, giving Warlock a little apologetic pat on the shoulder. "I mean, not that I agree that S.H.I.E.L.D. is the enemy, of course. We're all trying to get along here. But, well, I apologize, Adam," he managed with a sigh. "Maybe Phyla's right… maybe the mood chemicals in your brain are misaligned this time around, or puberty is just screwing with your hormones or something. And of course you're Adam-flarking-Warlock, and we all know what _he's_ like. But for the time being, let's just try and act like professionals right now, huh? You work on being polite, I work on being serious."

Adam glared, but it was Hill who spoke before he got the chance. "Maybe you're the one who needs to be more polite to him, Your Highness, if you're actually supposed to be on the same side there. I cannot _express_ how underwhelmed I am by your joint display here."

"Agreed, but I don't need defending from you, woman, you know who I am," Adam said, looking annoyed. "I know Quill doesn't mean any real harm with his words."

Peter winced. "That's the spirit! But please, Agent Hill, don't call me 'Your Highness'; it makes me sound like a total brat. My title is the Star-Lord. 'Mr. Quill Sir' is fine, too."

"Cool." Hill smiled sardonically. "Just being on the safe side. You know how touchy some galactic royalty can be."

Peter rolled his eyes. "And I think I've had enough of top secret government agencies, right about… now! It doesn't look like Nova came to your flare, Groot."

Groot shook his head in agreement.

"Well, no cause to worry!" Peter clapped his hands. "When Richie starts wreaking havoc again, I'm sure we'll know. In the meantime, we're in New York City! Let's go sightseeing!"

Hill raised her eyebrows. "Not so fast."

Gamora stepped forwards, and whipped out her sword Godslayer. In instant reply, Hill pulled out a pistol.

Peter lifted his hands, watching the scene escalate before him. They couldn't afford a fight like this. " _HOLD_ it, that won't help, it'll just end up starting a galactic war on Earth. We're tourists, Agent Hill. We have rights. Don't you want us buying American ice cream and paying for American tour busses? It'll support your economy!"

"I thought this was Earth, not Amerikia?" Rocket wondered aloud.

Hill raised her eyebrows again. "You're not tourists."

"It _would_ be fun, though, while we wait for Richard," Heather helped out convincingly. She was a great actress, whether she meant it or not. "I miss this place."

Peter gave his best wistful babyface. " _Please_?" Not as if he was about to fold to the will of this Agent woman, but it'd be nice to have her not out to kill them.

There was a pause. Then Hill sighed. " _Fine_. Do what you want. But the eyes of S.H.I.E.L.D. will be on you, wherever you go on our world."

Peter shrugged. "Whatever! It's not like we'll be doing anything wrong. Just be discreet with your eyeballing, guys."

"S.H.I.E.L.D. always is," Agent Hill promised. "You won't even see us there." She spoke into her communicator. "Withdraw." Then she turned on her heel, and lead her agents away. Soon they were all gone, down to the last ship.

Gamora sheathed her sword. "Das't humans," she muttered.

"Gotta agree with you in this case," Peter admitted. Then he grinned broadly, and threw an arm around Adam's shoulders. "So, where do you want to go first? The top of the Statue of Liberty?"

"I'm starving," complained Rocket. "Do Earthers have any decent food, or what?"

Peter smiled. "Rocket, you're in luck! Because this planet is home to the seventy-eighth greatest food in the Galaxy." He paused at a bittersweet memory. "Or the number one greatest food, if we're talking the sweet potato pies my mom used to bake me back in the day. But I don't think we'll be finding any of that here."

"I don't believe you actually made a list that long," Drax commented.

"Wanna bet?" Peter winked, then skipped off. "Come on, guys! I see a coffee shop over down the road!"

The Guardians of the Galaxy walked down the street towards the coffee shop, which seemed to be a Starbucks. Some people were staring, but thankfully nobody ran away screaming or anything; so Peter made up his mind just to do what he used to normally do, and stride along confidently as if this was the normalest day in the world. It had worked for him in the past; and sure enough, it seemed to work this time, because they received no confrontation. Of course, part of that might've also been because of the fact that they were in New York City. That was a crazy place, or so he had heard. A bunch of aliens probably wasn't that exciting for these folks.

They had to cross the street to get to Starbucks, but Peter instructed the Guardians all to follow his lead at the crosswalk, and they all did pretty well. Of course, Heather was already pretty familiar with Earth, and some of the others had a little familiarity with it. But Rocket pointed his gun at a car.

"Hey!" Peter chided, pushing the little furry hands down, and giving the open-mouthed driver a sheepish smile and wave.

"It was pointed at us threateningly!" Rocket complained.

"No it wasn't!" Peter insisted firmly. "Not at all threatening. That's what the traffic light signals are for. But I can explain that all to you later, now's definitely not the time. Now come on, let's get something to eat." He pushed open the door, and they all walked into Starbucks. The group all got in line.

Instantly the soft conversations in the shop quieted. So the person currently ordering their long complicated drink. Peter cleared his throat with a smile. "Carry on!" he winked, and seemingly instantly, they did so, just like nothing had happened (though a few customer still gave the group strange glances).

"What's their problem?" Rocket muttered, gripping his gun tight.

Peter looked down at him, and whispered a reply. "It's nothing. They don't get many offworlders around here, that's all. No bad feelings."

Gamora ran her fingers through her green hair, before stopping abruptly, as if realizing that didn't much fit her cold persona. "This is teeth-grinding," she muttered.

"No, it's not," Peter whispered.

"Maybe they're just impressed," Adam murmured.

"I believe they're scared," Drax hissed.

"Nah," Peter softly tried to placate them. "They're just mildly interested. Not even that, see? We're boring as old socks. 'Cuz we're old news now."

Drax leaned to get a better view of the counter. "Does this place sell drinks, or food?"

"Well…" Peter peered up there himself. "It's a coffee shop. They primarily sell coffee drinks, which can actually be pretty filling, depending on the drink. But you see they also sell other things, like rice krispie squares and lemon seed muffins. And bagels." He paused. "I, for one, am getting a Grande mocha latte. And a birthday cake pop."

"Are you paying for all of us?" Adam queried.

"Uh…" Peter bit his lip. "Why me?"

"Because this place was your idea?" Heather suggested with a sardonic smile, but she pulled out a credit card. "But don't worry. This should work anywhere."

Peter widened his eyes. "Where the flark did you get that?"

She shrugged. "I have my sources."

"Well, awesome," Peter beamed. "I won't ask. It's our turn up!"

They were rather slow at the counter. Especially when the news crew showed up… somebody must have called them. Fortunately the person working there didn't get at all impatient — whether Drax was right and that was due to fear, or not. But in the end, they all got their drinks and pastries, and elected to sit outside.

"This _is_ good," Drax smiled, sipping blissfully on his Venti double chocolatey chip frappuccino in the sunlight.

"I know right?" Peter agreed, relaxing on his chair outside, then hissed under his breath, "What's that news crew doing there?" They had followed the Guardians back outside, and now seemed to be doing a bad job of discreetly filming them from across the street.

"You think they're S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Adam proposed.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn't be that obvious," Gamora decided.

"You think they're spies?" asked Rocket.

"I think," proposed Peter, "that they're intimidated mortals. Nothing to worry about. Ignore them." He sipped on his latte, and so, the Guardians did their best to ignore their stalkers… that is, until the news crew crossed the line, by directly approaching them.


	16. Chapter 16

Richard turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, feeling refreshed. His mind was still racing — he wasn't sure that would ever stop — but his blood wasn't rushing so hard in his ears anymore, and the sense of urgency wasn't quite so throbbing in the forefront of his mind. He guessed this was the closest he could get anymore to feeling relaxed.

His mind had been racing since waking up after the disaster with the party, when he had inadvertently blown it up and done heaven knows what else; and it hadn't been until his arrival on Saakar that he'd finally been able to piece his whirling thoughts together. He was the last Nova, and Peter had been right, more than right… that fate came with responsibilities: the responsibilities of the entire Nova Corps. He had to police the whole galaxy. But he'd been smart, and he was being really good; so he was taking it a step further — he was going to rule the universe, and then protecting it would be _easy_. He'd be in charge of everything. It was the best idea ever, and he _knew_ he had to do it. But it didn't really make him feel any better.

He guessed happiness just wasn't in his lot. So what if he'd killed Annihilus and saved the universe? He still had so much work to do, it was his duty. Still, the least people could do was appreciate it. Especially his friends. Like Adam. And Vance.

Richard dried himself off with a towel, and put on the clothes Vance had given for him to borrow. Blue jeans and an NY Giants t-shirt. He examined his reflection in the mirror. A young man with brown hair and brown eyes, dressed like your average New Yorker. Earlier, the Worldmind had been nagging him practically nonstop. But the past few hours, it was so quiet, it might've given up on him. Damn. It took a lot to shut Worldmind up. But hey. No voices in his head! Like a normal person. He looked so normal, and if he didn't know himself, he would've believed he was completely just that. Not the wielder of the Nova Force, with more responsibility than anybody else in the Galaxy. At the thought, his eyes flickered with a golden light.

He _wished_ he was normal.

But such wasn't his lot. And besides, it wasn't all bad, being what he was. So maybe he wasn't directly happy, but he supposed he would be, once he had finished his work of conquering the universe. He had a sense of purpose, and so all the racing thoughts in his mind weren't such a burden; they felt good. _He_ felt good. But right now, he was supposed to be taking a break, with his good friend Vance. He couldn't help but wish the urgency in his brain would shut off, but at the same time, for the good of the universe, he knew that shouldn't be.

He turned off the light, and left the bathroom. He turned the corner and came to the small living room. Vance was sitting there in a dark t-shirt and slacks, leaning back on the fake leather-seated couch, and as Rich came in, he saw that Vance's eyes seemed glued to the blank TV, which of course was off.

"Hey," Richard announced his presence, and Vance looked over at him.

"Hey. You look better," Vance smiled, but it seemed strained.

Richard returned with a fragile smile. "Are you okay?" he checked, then wished he could backtrack. Vance didn't look okay, and Rich decided to get right to the point. "I'm sorry," he said in one breath. There, he'd said it. It was out, and it felt right. He hadn't apologized when they'd talked about Vance's near-death experience in the Crash Pad, and he'd felt a little guilty about that.

"Oh? Nah, it's fine," Vance brushed it away. "I wasn't still thinking about that. If, you know, you're referring to the instance when you told me you were going to kill me, and raised your hand to do so. Before you got distracted by an incoming missile."

Richard felt a funny smile come to his lips. "I did save you from the missile, though."

Vance nodded. "Yeah, the missile that I wouldn't have been in danger of in the first place if it wasn't for you. Thanks for saving me from that."

"I like to think I wouldn't have _really_ killed you," Richard replied slowly. It was true. He really hoped he wouldn't have. Still, he didn't know. He'd felt so sure of himself, so convinced that Justice's death was the only way to make a better world.

Vance smiled again. "I told you already, Bucket-head, I'm not mad at you, I was just making sure you're aware of what happened. I mean, the look in your eyes wasn't exactly sane. To be honest, I was feeling more sorry for you than anything. So if you ever do loose it again and actually kill me, just know I won't be mad at you." His voice was joking at this last part, but Rich thought he could see something deeper behind it.

Richard tilted his head. "Are you sure you weren't still thinking about it, Vance?"

Vance shook his head. "I wasn't. I really apologize if I seem bitter. To be honest though, I wasn't even thinking about you till you came in."

"What's wrong, then?" Richard walked over, and plopped down on the couch beside his friend.

Vance shook his head. "Nothing."

"Were you thinking about Robbie?" Rich guessed suddenly. Come to think of it, he was worried about Robbie, too.

Vance gave him a sideways glance; and though he didn't break his composition, his eyes looked completely dejected. "You know me so well, Rich. Yeah, I was thinking about Robbie. Maybe if I had tried harder to convince him to stay, we might all be here together. Maybe we'd _all_ be better off if I had."

"Maybe I should've stopped him," Richard mumbled. He knew he could've easily stopped his friend from leaving to return to the Thunderbolts. And seriously, what kind of friend lets their friend hurt himself? Why _hadn't_ he stopped him? Just because Supertights had told him not to…??

"No, it's my fault," Vance shook his head. "I told you not to stop him. But…" He paused. "Maybe it's for the best… maybe he needs some time to feel better… maybe I'm totally kidding myself." He took a deep breath. "We'll help him later. Right now, let's try not to worry about Robbie, okay? When he wants help, he knows I'm more than willing to give it to him." He paused again, not looking happy about this. "Although, I might just go try and get him regardless, if he doesn't decide he wants help within the next few days. He can't be allowed to keep torturing himself. And if you didn't kill Tony, I'll murder him myself. I _know_ he knew about this. He wouldn't let himself be in the dark about any such a thing."

Richard gazed at Vance, surprised. He knew he wasn't being serious about murdering Tony Stark, but he looked pretty ferocious. On an impulse, Richard wrapped a firm arm around him. After a couple seconds, Vance hugged back.

Presently they separated, and Vance stood up, running his fingers through his chocolatey hair. "Are you hungry, Rich?" He walked to his kitchenette, and a bag of instant popcorn flew out from a drawer into his hand. He unfolded it and put in in the microwave. "Popcorn. I think we should watch something. Get our minds off the dark stuff." He smiled again briefly.

Richard nodded, following him. "You know I love popcorn. And I could do with a distraction, Vance. My mind is so overtired, I think it's gone into hyperdrive."

"Oh?" Vance tilted his head. "I didn't ask. How are you feeling, Rich?"

"Oh, I'm great," he replied, with a broad, and pretty heartfelt, smile. "I haven't felt so calm since my planet-conquering crusade began. It's weird, but awesome."

"Yeah?" Vance was gazing at the microwave. His expression was hard to read. "Glad to hear it. How many planets have you conquered so far?"

Richard hesitated. That was a slightly embarrassing question. "None successfully, yet," he admitted. "But I _would_ have, if Adam Warlock hadn't kept tagging along trying to hinder me. I practically had Saakar, I swear, I had defeated their Hulk champion king and everything. But then Adam pulled my hair. I beat the flark out of him on a Kree outworld, though."

Just then the microwave beeped, and Vance opened it to pull out the inflated popcorn bag. "Ooh, hot!" he muttered, and levitated it to the sofa. Rich followed and sat back down beside him. "What do you wanna watch?" Vance asked.

Richard watched his expression carefully. He sure hadn't commented much on his report on his space adventures, and he couldn't tell what Vance thought. Could it be that he was accepting it as just _ordinary_? Because Richard sure didn't think it was. His current mission was the most extraordinary thing he had ever set to doing in his life. Then again, he felt like an entirely new person lately, and he hadn't yet been living this new life for long.

Vance sighed, switching on the TV and flipping through the channels. "I've got a few movies, but we might be better off watching whatever they're showing on TV."

"Do they still air rerun episodes of Supernatural at this time?" Rich asked, pulling at his memory. Supernatural was a great show, but his memory of a lot of Earth things was hazy, and he wasn't familiar with the latest pop culture anymore.

"Maybe," replied Vance. "CW, right?"

Richard nodded. "Yup. Hey Supertights, what are you thinking?"

Vance stopped flipping channels at the familiar nickname, leaving the TV on what seemed to be a news channel. He muted it, and turned to face Richard. "I'm thinking, I'm glad you feel calm, and I want you to stay that way. A horror show like Supernatural won't make you less calm, right?"

"I've seen much worse things than the Winchesters ever have," Richard promised, staring into Vance's eyes. He still couldn't read them. "I'm not a baby, it won't freak me out. What else are you thinking? I mean, about my planet-conquering crusade? Is there a reason you didn't say much about it?"

Vance sighed. "I'm sorry, Rich. I'm trying not to judge. Do you want to talk about it now?"

Richard nodded, getting the irritating feeling he was being patronized. And Vance was generally a really dope guy! "I want to know what you're thinking. Even _you_ judge people."

Vance sighed again. "That's what I meant when I said 'trying,' Richie. Of course I don't approve of you conquering planets. You're a cosmic threat. And of course I don't believe you're thinking clearly, hell, I _know_ you're not thinking clearly, even when you're _not_ actively threatening to kill me… sorry to bring that up again. My emotions are literally all over the place right now, and… and yeah. Thing is, even though I'm conveying it awful as heck, I _really_ want you to be happy. Are you happy?"

Richard stared into his eyes a little longer. That was sweet, he guessed. He only wished Vance could understand, so he could see why Rich was doing this, see that Rich was just very smart now, and saner than just about anybody. But he knew Vance couldn't understand these great things, because Richard had grown beyond his humanity. Beyond Vance. He swallowed, and a shiver ran down his spine. He didn't want to be beyond Vance. "No," he whispered, almost pleading.

Vance gazed at him, and now Richard could see that his eyes looked very sad, though not exactly surprised. "You're not happy?"

"No, I… yes," Richard paused, then cursed under his breath. That wasn't what he'd meant. But was he happy? He was happy to be spending time with Vance. In fact, he was dreading having to go back to his duties as the last Nova. He knew that he had to do it, and that he was the most important person in the universe, but importance didn't equate to happiness. It was difficult. He took a deep breath. "Sorry, Vance, I… I don't know. But I think so, yeah. I'm happy as long as you're with me."

Vance smiled, and patted him on the arm. "I'm here for you as long as you need me. So relax, take a break."

"Thanks." Richard paused. "But I don't _need_ you. I mean, I can get on fine without you. I mean, you're my friend, and I enjoy hanging out with you, but… das't, that sounded cold."

Vance shook his head. "No, I think I understand. You're capable of living your life without me, but you'd rather be with me?" Rich nodded, and Vance continued, "I feel the same way. So why don't we keep hanging out? Supernatural awaits?"

Richard shifted uneasily. His mind was racing again. "You know, I still can't stay long. I've got a lot to do."

"Conquering planets doesn't make you happy though, does it?" Vance repeated.

Rich shrugged. "It has to be done. I'm sorry, but you can't stop me."

Vance picked up some popcorn and put it in his mouth, chewing. "We can worry about that later. Now, let's preserve your calmness. Trust me, Rich, it'll be okay. Nothing bad is going to happen if you don't go do your planet-conquering stuff right this second. I promise."

Rich swallowed, and nodded. "I… I trust you," he managed stupidly, even though his heart was pounding, and his senses were on high alert.

Vance smiled. "Great. Now could you turn down the lighting a little bit? It's kinda blinding, staring you in the face like I am. Plus it'll probably have unwanted affects on the TV screen."

"Oh…" Richard smiled faintly. It must be his eyes. He concentrated. "How's that?"

"Better." Vance turned to look at the TV, and Richard followed his gaze.

"Holy flark?" Richard mouthed. On the news was Peter Quill! It was still muted, but his expression looked sheepish, and he appeared to be rocking on his heels as he talked, occasionally chewing on a Starbucks cup he held in his hand. Vance flipped the channel. "Hey, hey, go back!" Richard cried, grabbing his arm. The remote fell to the floor, but it instantly hopped back into Vance's telekinetic hand.

"What are you doing?" Vance yelped, drawing away sharply, with a real look of panic on his face.

"Go back," Richard insisted, and yanked the remote out of his hand. He flipped back to the news channel and turned up the volume.

"Yeah…" Peter was saying, scratching his head. "Earth is pretty neat, you know? The Statue of Liberty is a real beauty. We were planning on heading up there next."

"You've got to be kidding me," Richard murmured, his mouth dropping open.

"You've got to be kidding me," echoed a more cynical-sounding voice from the TV, and the camera turned on what looked like… a talking raccoon?

"You know these guys?" Vance asked warily, as the camera zoomed out to reveal a group of eight aliens, most of which looked very uncomfortable. "Wait, is that Adam Warlock? The guy who had the Infinity Gauntlet?"

Richard nodded. "How is he all better already? Man, I hate it when guys have healing factors. _Especially_ when they involve regenerative cocoons, it's just freaky. But what's wrong with him? He looks different."

"He looks… young," Vance observed. "And I think I recognize that green chick… she's obviously not Jen, though, but…"

"Gamora. She's my girlfriend," Rich added proudly. "Isn't she hot?"

"Yeah," Vance nodded, his wide eyes at the screen. "Good for you."

Gamora was talking now, actually. "Come, seriously, it was not our intention to attract attention of the media." She had her sword out, and was brandishing it scarily with each word. "Evil things come of humans who stick their cameras in the wrong place."

"Of course…" the reporter looked uncomfortable. Richard stood up.

"I've got to go!" His head was racing again, almost faster than he could keep up. Had they tracked him down to Earth? He couldn't let them be drawn here. He had to face them where they were. And were _they_ all his enemies now? How could he know?

"Rich!" Vance stood up beside him, and Richard whirled to face him, slamming Vance's muscular body back down hard under his arm instinctively. Vance coughed, his mouth slightly agape, winded, and still pinned down. Richard stared at him, glanced at his own arm over Vance's neck, and released his friend.

"Sorry," Richard apologized softly. He didn't know why he'd done that… he guessed he had just been nervous. Thinking too hard to truly process. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Vance gasped. "No, I'm okay. I… I'm pretty sure I can't convince you to stay, so I'll come with you. One sec — and don't even think of leaving without me." He left the room, massaging his throat as if it still felt crushed.

Richard gazed after him, feeling guilty. He supposed he didn't know his own strength — after all, there had been a time not long ago when Vance might well have bested him in any fight. He couldn't let Vance come with him now, though. He had to keep him out of harm's way. It wasn't that he didn't think Vance could hold his own against his cosmic friends; the problem was that he knew Vance was no match for _him_ anymore, and he couldn't trust him to be on his side if it came to a fight. "Don't follow me, Vance," he shouted, and headed to the window.

Footsteps thudded instantly down the short hall, and Vance returned, his blue spandex uniform in one hand. "I was just gonna suit up."

"You can't come," said Richard, not willing to meet his eyes.

"What, are you going to knock me out?" Vance smiled sardonically. "I'm your friend, Rich. You can't leave me behind, I just won't take that."

Richard didn't look at him, but threw himself out the window. He felt his body release some of its bountiful power, and saw the golden glow around him.

"Well, I do always like flying through the city in my civies!" he heard Vance call, and he looked back to see his friend flying after him in his same normal clothes, his arms stretched out in front of him. Vance lifted himself upwards so they were level, and twirled around in the air beneath him. "The program said filming live in Manhattan, right?"

"Right," Richard nodded uncertainly. He was feeling resigned to the idea that Vance would be coming. It didn't matter. Rich could avoid hurting him, couldn't he? And he was strong, stronger than anyone. He could do _anything_.

Vance flew upwards, so he was only inches beneath Richard, his own body bathed in the cosmic glow. "I think we're just about there," he commented softly.

"Yes." Richard pulled ahead. He could see the Starbucks ahead, and sure enough, there was the news crew, filming a group of bored-looking aliens. He landed, and instantly the cameras were turned on him. On a whim, Richard tossed his hair like a French fashion model. It wasn't long like it used to be so it really wasn't as awesome.

"Richie!" Peter yipped, hopping on his toes and throwing his fists in the air triumphantly. Then he paused. "Richie." His tone now was serious.

Vance landed beside him, his arms crossed. "Hello!"

Richard glanced at Vance, a little embarrassed now by his presence. Then he looked at the news crew, the camera, and he sauntered straight up to it. "Hey," he greeted coolly.

"Hey!" The news reporter looked excited. "Are you Richard Rider, the New Warrior known as Nova?"

Richard raised his eyebrows. Was that seriously all he was thought of here, after their stupid war, a New Warrior, a minor Earth superhero from a minor Earth team? He shook his head. "Richard Rider was some human boy who got chosen by an alien. I'm the wielder of the whole Nova Force, a power too vast for any of you humans to comprehend. Those of you at home, listen up. I defeated Iron Man and left him for dead this morning, along with his destroyed helicarrier. Basically I'm your new god, in the most un-Adam Warlock way; but I'm doing this for your own good, and I'll be benevolent and just. I claim this planet. If anyone feels the overwhelming urge to defy me, please go ahead and get it over with now so I can move on to the next world. Yes, Avengers, I'm talking to you." Richard stuck his tongue out at the camera lense. "Are you still filming?"

The cameraman nodded, looking positively thrilled. Well, that was a good sign. Maybe at least this guy wouldn't try to stop him.

"Awesome," Richard nodded, satisfied. "Well, that's all I've got to say now. Except please, please don't resist. I don't want to hurt any more people than I have to." His heart ached as he said this; and he meant it, with every fiber of his being.

Vance popped up next to him. "Just wanted to mention… Ms. Marvel, Wasp, Wonder Man, whoever's listening, I can handle this. Please don't get involved. Richard is still my friend, and I can get through to him. Those of you at home, please remain calm. This situation is being dealt with by an Avenger. Justice, out."

"Wait!" Richard had a sudden idea, that seemed very bright to him on the spur of the moment. He grabbed Vance by the neck in a headlock, and held him against the front of his chest. Vance struggled, choking, but with the Nova Force, Richard was easily stronger. "Surrender peacefully, Avengers, or I'll kill Justice."

"Whoa, hey there!" shouted Peter, waving his hands wildly.

"Richard!" Gamora yelled. She sounded mad.

Richard loosened his grip slightly on Vance, who coughed. "Avengers," Vance croaked, "do not interfere… please. We'll avoid a lot of destruction this—" He gasped into open-mouthed silence as Rich squeezed his neck harder again.

"Nova, out." Richard reached his other hand, and smashed the camera to pieces. The cameraman yelped, suddenly not looking so happy anymore. Richard let go of Vance, who sank to the ground, gasping for air. Richard knelt by his side, immediately starting to panic, now that they weren't on TV anymore. "Vance? Oh my God — oh, Vance, I…" He trailed off. Vance had been being so nice to him. Why had he just done that in return? Vance pushed Richard away weakly, and Rich stood up again, taking a few steps back. He didn't want to hurt his friend more than he already had.

Peter whistled. "Holy das't, it's true. He's totally off his rocker." He swallowed and took a deep breath. "Richie? Do you remember me?" His voice was light and gentle, as if speaking to a small child; and he took a step forwards, holding up his empty hands in a sign of peace. "It's Peter. The guy you call Star-Lord? You wanted me to take the title back, and now I did."

Richard gave him a sideways glance. Evidently Peter didn't know what he was dealing with, and Rich was annoyed. "I know who you are," he said scathingly.

"He knows who we are," Adam informed Peter at almost the same time. "I'm pretty sure he retains his full memories."

"Oh. Cool. Sorry." Peter pulled a strained smile, coming closer. He pointed at Vance. "Who's this guy?"

Vance got unsteadily to his feet, coughing. "I'm Vance," he introduced himself hoarsely. "Vance Astrovik. Codename: Justice. I'm an Avenger."

"Ohhh!" Peter's eyes brightened. "Agent Hill mentioned you during our failed interrogation! She said you were Richie's hostage!"

Vance shrugged. "I thought I was his host, but you never know. Am I your hostage, Rich?" Hurt permeated his voice, though he sounded like he might be trying to veil it.

Richard glanced at his betrayed expression, and he felt even more horrible. Of course, his guilt wouldn't interfere with the task he needed to preform, but he just hoped this didn't mean breaking all his friendships. Especially not his oldest ones. Also, he realized Vance had every reason to believe that he really would kill him, and that knowledge nearly broke Richard's heart. "Of course not, Vance," he replied, blinking several times to clear his head. "You were just handy… I guess I was just too focused on the big picture just now. I am _really_ sorry you're hurt. I really really am. Guys, Justice here is one my closest friends in the whole galaxy and he deserves y'all's respect."

Adam strode up to the two of them, and grabbed Richard by the scruff of his Yankees t-shirt. "I don't care. Ready for another round?"

Richard pushed him away roughly, feeling the smile return. "Absolutely. You want me not to hold back this time? Or should I be extra gentle, now that you're a little boy?"

"Shut up," Warlock growled, as if he'd heard it all before.

"Okay, okay," Rich burst into light, and sparks looked to literally fall from his figure. "Less talking, more fighting, is that right?"

"No!" Vance shouted, stepping in between them, and threw his arms around Richard's glowing body, and pressed his cheek against Richard's glowing shoulder. "Don't fight. Just _don't_. I don't want either of you ending up dead. We need to talk it out."

Richard looked at him, feeling very uncomfortable by the fact that Vance was trying to guard him with his arms around his body. People might think things. On the bright side, of course, it did imply that Vance didn't completely hate him now, and that was a relief. "Justice, I gotta settle this unfinished affair," Richard said tersely, his intensely glaring eyes not leaving Adam's gleaming ones. "I'm sure you can appreciate that."

"Well, maybe I don't appreciate you killing people!" Vance's voice sounded like it was breaking, so Richard had to look at him a second. His own heart was racing, and his head was spinning. But his mind — though also quicker than Quicksilver — felt clearer than ever. He placed a hand on Vance's shoulder, forcing the latter to let go.

"You're only human, Vance," he said softly. "I'm a far greater power. You can't understand."

"I'm Homo Superior!" Vance spat. Rich stared at him, surprised. Vance had never been one of those mutants who was proud of being a mutant — let alone the ones who think they're superior, a higher step of evolution. But then Vance looked away, kicking lamely at the ground. "I'm sorry, Rich," he whispered, and Nova couldn't help but think that was the most unnecessary apology ever. "I know that you're hurting. But the best way to solve that is talking it out, not fighting."

Rich felt torn. He wished he knew how to explain it to him. "I'm not dong this because I'm hurting, Vance," he chewed his lip. "I'm not even doing this because Adam Warlock is a stuck-up schlaghole who needs to learn a lesson. I'm doing it for the same reason I must do anything: for the good of the universe. It's my duty as the last Nova. You don't understand. I don't have a _choice_."

Vance wrapped his arms around Richard. "I get that you feel that way, Rich. But that's where you're wrong. You always have a choice." He paused. "And if you really want to help the universe, I still think talking would be more effective than fighting." He stopped hugging Richard, and looked to Adam. "Right? Tell him, Mr. Warlock." Rich followed his eyes to also stare at Adam. He was surprised Vance had asked _him_ ; that must have felt like a big gamble. Adam Warlock wasn't exactly known on Earth for being a good guy.

Adam looked up boredly. The sassy challenge had faded out of his golden eyes, and he had just been cracking his thumbs while the two of them had been having their feelsy conversation. "Me?" He shrugged. "Personally, I'm completely up for a rematch." He winced visibly at Vance's reproachful glare. Really, Adam's reaction was incredible. "Of course," he added quickly, "diplomatic discussion is a wise course of action too. Nova is my friend, and I wish we could be again. Besides, it takes half the celebration out of a victory when the man you've beaten is so clearly mentally ill."

"Now wait one second," Richard began to scoff, but Vance shook him by the arm.

"See? Now let's talk about it. Please. Do it for me?" Vance paused. "You said, back at my apartment, that you trust me. If something bad comes of you just talking for a bit, then it'll be my fault and I'll accept the blame. But it'll be okay." He paused. "Right, guys?" He looked around.

"Right!" Peter nodded, stepping forwards and smiling. "Talking! I love talking, it's fun. And you can trust me too, Rich. I'm your… _second_ -best-friend, I guess." He threw a sideways (jealous) look at Vance. All the other Guardians echoed some sort of agreements.

Richard thought about Robbie Baldwin, and all the other New Warriors. He thought about all his space friends, versus his Earth friends. Then he decided he definitely didn't rank his friends from best to worst. But all that wasn't important. He faced Justice, his heart pounding. He had grown so far beyond Vance Astrovik, but… he still loved him. It was a gamble, but Vance was one of the sweetest nicest people he had ever known, and in this moment, though it went beyond all reason, he trusted him. He _had_ to give the Earthers one more chance to be reasonable. So maybe it hadn't worked on Saakar, and it hadn't worked here with Stark, but maybe he could make it work now… for Vance's sake, if for nothing else. _And to minimize damage_ , the more logical part of his brain reminded him. He swallowed, hard, and nodded. "I… I trust you, Vance. We'll… talk." His voice came out very quiet. Strained.

Vance threw his arms around Richard, and a warm feeling rushed through him. "I'm so proud of you, Rich. I know that was hard for you."

Richard started to feel good, like he actually had done something to be proud about. It was weird. And he did still feel uneasy… but he could ignore it. He could try. And maybe things would work out.

Unfortunately they didn't. He'd half closed his eyes, his head against Vance's shoulder, when he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye, and there were his hyper alert senses again. He jerked his head up and looked around to see Peter with his gun — not his elemental gun, but a weapon Richard didn't recognize — outstretched in his hand, pointed towards his back.

Peter was pointing a flarking gun at Richard.

The trigger was pulled. The ammo was shot, only to be easily deflected with a burst of Nova Force. Rich pulled away from Vance, furious. "What the hell, Peter? What was that you said about trusting you?"

Peter dropped his gun, his eyes wide. Then he snatched it up again. "I had to." His voice was unwavering. _So cold_ , Richard thought. He scowled, and grabbed the thing closest to him by the shirt. That thing was Vance.

"Traitor," he hissed. How could his friends continually do this to him? "Conspirator!"

"Hey, easy now," Vance's eyes were wide, but he looked like he was desperately trying to calm Richard down. That made Rich angrier. He couldn't be controlled like a dog! "I didn't do anything against you!"

Richard shook him, hard, and Vance seemed winded for a second. Then his mouth went running again. "Come on, Rich. Try to think. Please. How could I possibly have conspired to shoot you? I don't even know them!"

Richard fixed him with a piercing glare. He couldn't afford to think on matters like this. There was too much to do, and none of these people deserved any of his attention. "I don't know, and I don't care!" he shouted, throwing Vance across the street. Vance caught himself before he hit the ground and flew up into the air, but Richard ignored him now. He turned back to Peter, who had backed against a building, the elemental gun in his outstretched hands. As if water, air, fire, or earth could do anything against Nova Prime. "I'm gonna kill you!" Richard heard himself scream from the depths of his soul. He felt broken inside, miserable — yet never more alive. Peter was a threat which needed to be eliminated. Also, he'd been his friend, until now, he'd betrayed him.

Peter turned on his jet boots and zoomed up into the sky. "I'm sorry you don't understand, Rich!" he called, putting on his helmet to hide his expression. "But I'll do whatever I can to help you!"

"Don't understand…" Richard burst into cosmic flame and rocketed up after him. Around him, the other aliens were getting tenser and the weapon-wielding ones pulling out their weapons, but for the most part, they couldn't fly. Well, _bring it on_. Richard threw handfuls of energy at Peter. "I hate you!" he shouted, and his eyes were stinging with tears. Ugh fuck that, he couldn't cry, he couldn't show how much they got to him! But… why was there nobody he could trust anymore? Why did being the last of the Nova Corps have to mean he was so alone?

Peter was limp now, his broken jet boots spinning his body in lopsided circles through the air. But when Richard threw energy upon him again, Peter let out a throaty cry, so he knew he was still alive.

Richard was caught up in his rage, but suddenly it was broken into by a smooth overconfident female voice. He turned around to see a woman in a black bathing suit with a yellow lightning bolt and a red sash, along with a black eyemask and thick yellow hair. She was hovering in the air, and behind her were a group of other superheroes — Wonder Man, Ares, Wasp, Black Widow… Richard looked back at her, recognizing this as Carol Danvers, better known as Ms. Marvel. "Richard Rider," she said, and her voice rang with authority. "You are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent…"

[She's **right** …] the Worldmind began suddenly, and Richard froze. It was back! Furious at both it and Ms. Marvel, he threw a blast of energy towards her, but she deflected it with a photon blast from her own hand.

"I'll take that as resistance," she sassed. "Avengers, assemble!"

Simon, just behind her, patted her too-sweetly on the arm, in Richard's opinion, and all the superheroes rushed into action. Now, the fight was really on.


	17. Chapter 17

_Thwip! Thwip!_ Spider-Man swung into the action on his webs. Technically, he wasn't an Avenger, seeing as how nowadays you actually had to be registered to be an Avenger. But hey, Peter Parker was always one for a team-up, so he'd taken the chance to show his face to his old teammates. Thank God they'd been too eager for help to care about his situation with the law. Some other superheroes' attention had also been drawn, clearly — the Mighty Avengers weren't the only ones to arrive, and just as well, since the Sentry seemed to be absent (why do the powerful guys always have to be gone?). But well. This fight. This was an unusual situation, and not in the good way.

They were fighting Richard Rider, also known as Nova of the infamous New Warriors. Spider-Man knew the New Warriors, and he knew they were good people. Heck, his clone had even been on that team once, and _he'd_ liked it, presumably. But apparently Richard had been driven violently insane by something unspeakably horrible in deep space, a same thing which had also granted him godlike powers. That had to be dealt with, especially since (according to _the _intel) the power seemed to be mutating inside Richard. In other words, he was getting more powerful each minute, and was significantly more powerful than he'd been when he'd took down Stark or whatever (screw Stark).__

__Apparently (Peter hadn't been watching the news but), Vance had broadcasted a video begging the Avengers to let him handle everything, so while the Avengers had come as soon as possible, they'd been silently observing in the shadows for a while until Vance failed and things got completely out of hand. Well, that time was now, and Spider-Man had to admit to himself that he was glad to be doing something._ _

__As if cued by his thoughts, Justice flew by him just now. But he wasn't dressed as Justice. Vance was wearing regular dark civilian clothes, and his cheeks were flushed red. His eyes were bloodshot. He looked extremely upset, and no wonder. He and Richard were close, or had been. "Hey Justice!" Peter greeted. He wanted to help save the day, but there were a lot of superheroes, and he wasn't sure he could do much against a guy who had taken down… Wonder Man? Spider-Man's breath caught short, and he stopped, flipping over to land on the side of the building. But Carol was seeing to him now, so Peter guessed Simon would be okay. Carol then zoomed back up towards Richard._ _

__Peter looked back at Vance, who had stopped to hover by him. The guy's neck was looked red and purple over the edge of his t-shirt. Peter had heard Simon and Carol talking about Richard possibly _torturing_ Vance, but he hadn't been sure whether to believe it. "Are you okay?" he checked._ _

__Vance touched his neck briefly, then nodded. "I'm fine, Spidey. Rich is the one who's not. But I told you guys not to show up."_ _

__"What can I say, it looked like you could use a hand," Spider-Man shrugged, studying Vance's neck with his eyes. It looked bruised, too, and still darkening, puffing up. It could use some ice quick. "And besides, I'm not an Avenger. Not at the moment. Hope you like me well enough for you not to report me. But haven't you heard about the spider-tracer killings in the Bugle? Even on Fox News?" Geez, poor Vance. Peter'd had many horrible injuries fighting unstoppable foes, and yes this was nowhere near that, but… Peter also knew that every scrape Harry Osborn vengefully inflicted on him was worse than a _million_ Juggernauts running him over. The fact that Vance had been hurt by one of his closest friends was just horrible._ _

__There was a pause. Vance looked down. "I'm fine. It's not his fault."_ _

__Peter swallowed. "You can see that I'm looking at your neck? But— but—" He ended lamely._ _

__"Your facial movements affect your tight mask?" Vance offered. He sighed. "Don't worry, Spider-Man, I can't tell what you look like. To me, you could be any wisecracking teenager in New York."_ _

__"I'm not a teenager!" Spider-Man protested, then bit his lip. Did he really come off that immature? What about, _with great power comes great responsibility_? "At risk of sounding like a geezer, I'm significantly older than you. But reeeally, Vance, if you're not fighting the Human Rockin' Crazy, then sit down a second." He climbed up to the top of the building he was on, but as Vance followed to sit beside him, Peter's eyes wandered to Nova. Richard was hovering in the air, bright like a permanent supernova, battling it out with Thor — not the psycho clone Ragnarok, but the _real_ Thor, who had somehow just returned the other day (apparently). That was a pretty scary fight, as lightning battled the very essence of the cosmos. Other heroes helped fighting Richard, but it was Thor who was the spectacle of the minute, and it was Thor who Richard's energies were fixated on. Damn, Rich really was getting more powerful every second._ _

__"Hey," said Vance quietly, "you can help them all out. Do your best to take Rich down. Trust me, I won't try to stop you. And I can handle myself on my own."_ _

__Peter blinked and shook his head. "Nah. Too many cooks already in the kitchen, I wouldn't get in a single blow. And it's okay, Vance, I'm not _totally_ trying to babysit you. I know you can hold your own. But you don't have to. I know this must be hardest on you."_ _

__Vance was silent for a moment. Then he said, "He _will_ get better."_ _

__"Yup!" Peter wasn't entirely sure he really believed that, but it was always nice to be optimistic. "Now lemme get a look at that neck." Vance looked at him skeptically. Peter added, "I'm a doctor… _ish_."_ _

__"Okay," Vance permitted, scooting in closer. Spider-Man placed his red-gloved hand lightly on his left collarbone, and examined the neck area. It was mostly just red, but there were darkening bruises and indents as well as inflammation. It looked painful._ _

__Peter sat back. "What was he doing?"_ _

__"With my neck?" Vance narrowed his eyes. "And you mean on TV?"_ _

__Peter stared at him. Well, he was sure being awfully casual. Vance hurried on, "If you're referring to the stunt on TV, Richard was only… he, well, he said I was just handy for threatening the Avengers with. So you have something to put on it? Do you have pockets in your spandex?"_ _

__Peter stared at him even intenser, his eyes practically bulging under his mask. "You're okay with him abusing you like that?"_ _

__Vance's jaw tightened, and Peter knew he had hit a nerve. Worse, he had the feeling that Vance was _far_ more perturbed now than he let on. "He _wasn't_ abusing me. Believe me, I know the difference. And he's really _unwell_. And, by the way, every single time he's physically harmed me, he's apologized, and he _means_ it. He's _not_ a villain. He's told me some stuff, about how he's feeling, Spider-Man. He's restless and miserable and he believes he _has_ to conquer the universe, or… or else some random indiscernible _bad_ thing will happen, I dunno. But he doesn't want to. You Avengers are under a no-kill order, right?"_ _

__Peter was still staring at Vance, but now it was a distantly sympathetic stare. Poor Richard. He really was… delusional, and it really made Peter feel sad. Mannn. "Um, I dunno Vance, I didn't hear that order. Then again, I'm not an Avenger, Avenger. So when you joined, they didn't make you swear a long sacred oath not to kill while representing the team? Because I thought Avengers don't kill."_ _

__"Richard's a galactic threat. Avengers make exceptions," Vance mumbled. "Specially Wolverine."_ _

__"Oh." Peter paused. "Well, I don't think they'd kill a good hero gone bonkers unless they had absolutely no choice at all. And about that, I'm really sorry, man. That's really messed up, how he's feeling… brutal."_ _

__Vance tilted his head. "Hang on. Did you say you were a _psychologist_? What kind of doctor are you again?"_ _

__"Well…" Peter felt embarrassed, "I never actually finished up my courses and got the official doctorate…"_ _

__"Med school?" Vance asked._ _

__"Uh." Peter scratched his head. "Chemist."_ _

__"Wait…" Vance stared at him, with an inappropriately disapproving look on his face. "I just let you examine my neck — and Richard's mental health — because you like to do chemistry in your spare time?"_ _

__"I prescribe ice for your bruises!" Peter lifted a pointer finger helpfully. "Available to you at your local pharmacy… or freezer, for maximum convenience. And the reason you told me about Rich is because we're friends, and you wanted me to understand the situation. I never said anything to even suggest that I'm a psychologist."_ _

__Vance shrugged somewhat bitterly. "Well, I don't reckon you have any equally-convenient prescriptions for Richard — do _you_ … friend?" He let out an empty laugh._ _

__"I wish," Peter sighed, and wrapped a comforting arm around Vance's shoulders. The latter leaned slightly against him in acceptance. Suddenly Spider-Man jerked upright. An idea had came to him. "Vance! You said he thinks he has to do this, right? How about we do that _talky_ thing to him, instead of fighty? As his friends? Try and convince him to that he doesn't have to conquer the universe?"_ _

__"That's what I was trying to do," Vance sighed, sounding literally exhausted by this suggestion. "He said he would trust me, but his space friend tried to shoot him in the back, so Rich decided we were _all_ his enemies. Talking won't work till he calms down, and I don't think he's gonna calm down till he decides he's finished with us. Or till somebody takes him down, which I guess is bound to happen with all these superheroes here, right?"_ _

__"Hmm…" Peter stroked his imaginary goatee. "I've fought a lot insane people. I _should_ know how to handle this. Problem is, I usually only ever worry about webbing them up for the police to put behind bars. Some of my charming quips probably aren't helpful for their mental conditions, to be honest."_ _

__"I think Richard has really bad OCD," Vance confided. "Only he's cosmic so it's on a cosmic level. Like, instead of stepping a certain way or tapping an object a certain number of times, the ritual he has to follow is conquering planets."_ _

__Peter stared at him. That had to be the craziest theory he had ever heard, but… he guessed it didn't sound 100% impossible. "You're sure that would still be called OCD?"_ _

__Vance shrugged moodily. "I'm not saying it's _just_ OCD. Just that he shares _hella_ traits?"_ _

__Still dubious, Peter opened his mouth for a witty reply, but all thoughts of what he'd been going to say were banished from his mind the next instant. His and Vance's heads whipped around in unison, in answer to an enormous boom and flash of light._ _

__Thor was down. Lying in the street in a smoking crater, his golden hair splayed about his head in a way that only the hair of fallen gods splayed. The hammer lay uselessly beside him, in a miniature crater of itself, never to be lifted unless he woke up. Peter's eyes wandered. Carol was also down, leaning against the Starbucks door, breathing heavily. Yellowjacket was on his hands and knees beside her, eyes half open. Luke-unregistered-Cage was sitting on his butt, muttering "Sweet Christmas!" dazedly under his breath. Adam Warlock was nowhere to be seen (although there was a weird dark blobby thing like a giant cocoon, holy crap). And they couldn't ignore Stature's enormous body, splayed out along the street. Stature… that was Cassie Lang. The thirteen-year-old daughter of the late Ant-Man. Ex-Young Avenger. Peter had heard somewhere that was a student in the Initiative training program now. And Spidey could see other heroes, too, also taken out of the action._ _

__Firestar was currently hovering in the air in front of Richard, her hair flowing red hot with fire, and her eyes shining with tears. She seemed to be pleading with him, and although he still flicked energy at other 'targets,' at least part of his attention seemed to be on her, and he wasn't hurting her._ _

__"Angel!" Vance gasped with a worried look on his face, and Peter remembered that Angelica was his fiancé. Or ex-fiancé, he had heard somewhere? Geez, things changed._ _

__"Okay… now I think it's time for the spider to move in," Peter commented, feeling like an army guerrilla._ _

__"She said she… she gave up being Firestar… she hasn't been feeling well lately… she's decided to focus on collage…" Vance muttered, looking seriously distressed. Like, more than he was already._ _

__Peter reached out his hand and shot out a web, swinging to a nearer rooftop. "Nova!" he shouted. "Firestar!" Peter was pretty good friends with Angelica; he knew her best out of all the New Warriors, not counting Ben Reilly._ _

__They both looked at him at the same time, and Rich lifted one hand. "Screw you! I come in peace, crazies."_ _

__A cosmic blast hit Peter, he fell backwards onto the roof. Fortunately it was a roof, and not a free-fall to the ground. The wind was knocked out of him momentarily, so Peter couldn't speak. And just when he'd been about to make a joke about how much this didn't look like peace, too._ _

__"Spidey!" Angelica cried, sounding half worried and half annoyed, as if somehow he had messed things up. What, by being the latest casualty?_ _

__"Did I kill him?" Peter heard Rich say, and his voice seemed to hold no emotion. That was scary. Not to mention _offensive_. Peter groaned loudly to let them know he was alright, then pulled himself up, wincing as he got into a spider-crouch. Well, that had certainly stung._ _

__"Rich! Angel!" Vance called, flying up by their side. "Richard, you're a good man, you don't wanna do something you won't forgive yourself for! Look I'm sorry about…"_ _

__"Sorry is just a stupid word that means NOTHING!" Richard shouted suddenly, and all the emotion was back, like a storm set loose. He blasted Vance with both hands, and Vance was blown backwards, then began hurtling towards the ground below. With a gasp, Peter leaped across the roof, extending a web down towards him with practiced skill. He'd been studying exactly how to do this and where to aim and hit, ever since this one time a few years ago, when… well, he'd done it very very wrong. But he couldn't afford to think about Gwen now._ _

__But Peter needn't have bothered. A figure on the ground leapt up with superhuman skill and caught Vance with what looked like incredible gentleness — especially for a guy in a spiky red-and-metal suit. Peter recognized him as that new Thunderbolt… what was his name again, something mysterious and intense, like Penance. Was that it? Peter looked around and saw three other T-Bolts had also arrived: Moonstone, Radioactive Man, and Venom. He shuddered at the last one. He still wasn't quite used to the idea of Venom being a good guy, and he'd been having his doubts about how well this dude was actually controlling the symbiote. Oh, and probably the fact that he was the Scorpion also added to Spider-Man's uneasiness. At least Eddie Brock was a lethal _protector_._ _

__Peter called down brightly to Penance. "Nice catch, man!" Penance glanced at him briefly, then lay Vance down on the sidewalk, stroking the dark hair out of his unconscious face in a loving (maybe too loving) gesture. Hopefully that wasn't a creepy thing._ _

__Moonstone grabbed Penance roughly by the shoulder, and he stood up, shoving her away again. Richard zoomed down, and landed right in front of him, a faint smirk on his face. Why was he smirking? Was he enjoying this? How…? What the actual hell had _happened_ to Richard Rider, out there in space?_ _

__Angelica landed next to Peter. "You okay?" she checked. He nodded._ _

__"And you, Ang?"_ _

__She nodded back, then turned down, and leapt off the roof, no time to loose. Peter jumped after her, slowing his fall near the bottom with a burst of webs._ _

__Richard was still smirking at Penance, who finally spoke, his fists glowing with blue energy, but not moving. "Stop this mess, Nova! You need help. You have no idea what you're doing to yourself."_ _

__"Oh ' _Penance_ ', and I'm supposed to listen to you, why?" Richard said with a smile that looked so fake it could've won an award for fakeness. "Someone in your mental condition, trying to tell me that _I_ need that kind of help. You think if I kill people here out of necessity, it'll destroy me like it destroyed you? You think I can't handle blood on my hands?"_ _

__There was a silence, and the words hung in the air that felt as thick as maple syrup. So this dude had killed people and was the worse for it — no surprise there, he _was_ a Thunderbolt. Still, a wave of confusion came over Peter, and he totally felt as if there was something major here that he just wasn't getting. He hated that feeling._ _

__Presently Penance spoke, and his voice was faint. "I just want to help you."_ _

__Richard laughed, a bitter, unsmiling laugh. "Don't worry, I won't become a attention-grabbing loser and cut myself up like you do. I'll be too busy, y'know, ruling the universe."_ _

__Suddenly, when he replied, Penance sounded angry. "You have no idea what you're talking about, idiot. Do you think I _like_ the attention I've been getting? This isn't about me, it's about the people of Stamford! The people who I hurt, who my penance is actually _for_. And penance has more worth when unknown, just read the damn Bible!" Impulsively, it seemed, Penance slapped Richard on the face, hard, with his bloody leather-and-metal glove. Blood started from his face, but Rich didn't even wince, staring at his friend, golden eyes widening. Penance continued speaking, his voice going even harsher and darker and lower now, so that Peter had to strain to hear. "And Richard, next time you feel like saying a stupid thing like that in front of people who'd care, in front of Angelica, don't."_ _

__The cold expression remained frozen a few more seconds on Richard's face. Then it vanished into a look of pure anguish. "Oh my God, Robbie… I'm… I'm literally just so _furious_ you've become this way! And I know it ain't your fault and I know you don't want attention but I guess I'm taking my anger out on you. I know I… I… I don't know why I — I… I'm sorry. I've got no excuse. I… I'm a krutacking monster and you've been fucked with in ways that you had no control over." He blinked away moisture from his eyes. "I'm sorry, pipsqueak, I… I'm talking through my thoughts, they're all moving so fast in my head…" He looked away, big tears welling now from his eyes, glowing brightly at first, but turning into water as they actually dripped off from his chin. Peter had _never_ seen Rich this emotional before, he was a tough cookie. "I wish I could help you, Toothpick. But I don't even know how to begin to start… Saving the universe looks so much easier than saving my own friend. I don't know what's wrong with me. I mean, your life was already shit when I got here, but I ruined it the rest of the way. Please, Toothpick, I — I can take you far away into space with me and all your misplaced guilt can be far away and maybe — maybe I can even give you a planet of your own, once I've actually conquered a few things. Please let me do that."_ _

__Rich was getting very emotional, and thank God a million times more human (which could bring the _talky_ option back into the picture), but to Peter Parker, there was really only one word in all that dialogue that really caught his attention, sending his head spinning. _Robbie?_ At last, the puzzle pieces clicked together in Peter's mind, and he felt like a complete idiot. This was Robbie Baldwin! This was Speedball!_ _

__Apparently, he wasn't the only one who had noticed. "Seriously, how does he know who you are?" Karla asked Penance suddenly._ _

__"We New Warriors share a weak psychic link," Richard told her dully, rubbing his eyes. Peter wondered if that was true. He'd never known that before._ _

__Robbie continued to stare at Richard, ferociously ignoring Karla. "Hey." He didn't sound so hostile anymore. "It's _okay_ to be angry. I'm angry too. It's okay to let it out: they tell me that's even healthy, as long as it's outwards (as opposed to inwards). I have no need for a planet, Rich, though I appreciate the thought. And you didn't ruin my life. Nothing's out; I can just go back to my life in the Thunderbolts when you leave again and I'll be fine. I know you didn't mean it. And the only person present who ruined my life is me. So don't worry about it. You're forgiven, and I know it's not even your fault, not really. Now let's talk about you."_ _

__Angel skidded towards Robbie, but Venom kicked her away. Angelica's hands lit up threateningly on fire — the symbiote's one other weakness besides sound. "Leave her alone," Robbie growled, his own fists glowing with blue energy, and Angelica ran to him in peace, throwing her arms around Robbie and burying her face into his metal-plated neck in a way that looked almost protective of him._ _

__"Robbie?" she gasped, her fingers running firmly along his torso. "I was wondering what had happened to you, and… and… you poor…"_ _

__Robbie pushed her gently away. "I'm so sorry you had to find out, Ang; just think of me as a different person now. But save the happy reunion for when Bucket-Head is in the mood. And if you still care about me at all, you'll keep my secrets a _secret_. I'm not nearly done what I'm doing as Penance. But, right, Rich? You wanna hang out with what's left of the New Warriors and catch up?"_ _

__Angelica stepped away, rubbing her eyes; but she made no promises. Peter stepped forwards and wrapped an arm around her, trying to be supportive. "In some ways," Peter said softly to Richard, "your dear friend Toothpick is right, even if he isn't following his own advice. Don't allow yourself to be plagued by guilt, Rich; it doesn't help anything. Trust me, I've got experience in that area. Instead, try to learn a lesson from mistakes, that with great power there must also come great responsibility."_ _

__"What are you, a preacher?" Richard queried. "You've said that before, Spider-Man, and you've honestly got no right to be lecturing me on great responsibility. You don't even know the meaning of the word. I carry more responsibility than any other person in the cosmos. So fuck you."_ _

__"Fuck _you_ ," said Moonstone impatiently, and Richard threw a fistful of cosmic energy right at her face. She threw her glowing hands up for protection (clearly she was an expert fighter), but she was knocked clean over, and didn't get up. Spider-Man's breath caught in his throat. Right. Talk about great power._ _

__"Richie!" Ang called out pleadingly, her eyes desperate to stop further destruction. She still stood by Robbie's side, but her attention was now focused on Richard. "I'm so sorry. Stark told me what you went through in space, it's just the worst thing. Look around you. You've proved you're powerful. You defeated most of Earth's Mightiest Heroes. You also defeated Justice, your _friend_ , heaven knows if he'll be okay… Is this what you want for the legacy of the Nova Corps?"_ _

__Nova seemed to have just one thing to say to that. "Tony Stark is _alive_?" Spidey guessed that hadn't been Angel's intended effect._ _

__Robbie whispered, "You're doing great, Angelica, chicks are always great at this stuff, but I just wish Namorita was here…" Spider-Man knew that Nova and Namorita had dated._ _

__Nova stared at the ground. "Maybe it's better she's not," he said. "I wouldn't want to have to fight her. It'll be hard enough putting you guys down, if you stand against me!"_ _

__He lit up golden, but suddenly a green woman ran out, a longsword outstretched in her hands. _Gamora_ , Spidey remembered — he'd met her on a couple crazy adventures before. She yelled at Nova. "Since you don't have your Earth woman, would a real woman suffice?"_ _

__"Gamora!" Richard cried, powering down so that he looked almost normal, his faintly glowing eyes transfixed on her. He smiled. "I need to tell you this, now that I'm finally worthy of you I gotta say it: I love you!"_ _

__Gamora walked straight up to him and slapped him in the face. Richard froze, staring at her with a look of utter bewilderment. Spidey could imagine the thoughts probably running through his head right now. "Forget that sentiment!" Gamora shouted. "If we ever had anything real to begin with, which I can't say we did — I never loved you, you were an enjoyable toy I can live without — it's over! Now get your ass in our ship, and we'll take you to the hospital, if you're lucky. Better than the Kyln. Fortunately for you, you haven't actually taken over any worlds, which earns you a greater chance of getting sympathy from the masses — seeing as how you also just saved them in the War. Ironic."_ _

__Richard stared at her, still not looking as if he entirely understood. "You're… you're dumping me?" he whimpered. He fell to his knees, and buried his face in his hands. "Always the hero is dumped by the girl," he mumbled. "Too much responsibility… I have no time to spend on love… no love, as I destroy everything that doesn't surrender to me… how is this fair? Blue blazes, I seem almost like the bad guy… why do I have to do this? Why does fate…"_ _

__Star-Lord's fallen body caught Spider-Man's eye, and not far from it, the tranq gun. Would it work? Could it work, if it actually struck its mark? He didn't wait to ponder this. As Richard mumbled dramatically, Spider-Man hopped away, and flipped over to grab the gun. He ran in a spider-crouch back towards Rich, his heart pounding in his chest. Evidentially, Gamora had noticed his plan (because why else would she be gentle), and she down reached to stroke Richard's hair. He moved his head forewords, crying. "I'm gonna miss…"_ _

__At that moment, Spider-Man fired straight on into Nova's back. His heart was pounding, and it felt wrong for him to be firing a gun at another person, but he reminded himself this was only a tranq gun, this dude was too powerful to be harmed by a missile, and what he was doing was for his own good. He fired round after round as Richard stood up, not bothering to deflect any, it seemed. But this was not good._ _

__Richard faced him, his arms crossed. Gamora stepped away. "Spider-Man," Rich said scathingly — shakily — and with a thrill, Spidey noticed that he was standing wobbly, and that he was blinking more than usual. "Die for this," Richard hissed, but Peter's spidey sense had already started blaring like a foghorn. He flipped high out of the way, just in time to avoid a blast of bright yellow cosmic energy._ _

__Then the light died from Richard's eyes, and he collapsed to the ground._ _


	18. Chapter 18

Robert Rider paced back and forth through the hotel room, chewing angrily on the alien bubblegum Mantis had given him. He wasn't angry about the bubblegum. It was delicious, actually, even better than Earth bubblegum by some degree, and so was the jacket, the gorgeous Kree military jacket he was wearing. Seemed as if people were totally giving him stuff — as if consolation gifts could ever make up for the loss of his older brother. Only Richard wasn't lost. He had been driven insane by the Nova Force that had always given him his superpowers, according to that Bug dude. Except Robbie wasn't entirely sure he believed Rich had really gone crazy. Richard was a superhero. Erratic behavior was what superheroes did. It was also what irritating older brothers did. But why had he gone off like that? After doing _that_? And he'd seemed so scared…

Dammit. Richard was crazy.

Okay. It had been a minute. Robert went back for another round of annoying the aliens. "Is my ship ready?" he demanded of Ronan.

The blue guy looked pretty scary mostly, especially with the evil supervillain rep he had going back on Earth, but Robert cared too much about his brother to be fazed like that.

By this point, Ronan looked tired, mostly. "You don't have a ship. I reiterate, if you wanted to follow your brother, you should have gone with Quill."

"Peter Quill went out of his way to leave me behind!" Robert stomped a foot frustratedly on the ground. He didn't care that he was talking to Ronan the Accuser; he just wanted Richard's stupid ass to be okay.

Ronan sighed. "Truly, Earther, out of respect for your brother, I would give you a ride if I had any idea where they were. As it is, there is nothing I can do for you."

"Don't you 'high-tech' people have, oh I dunno, _phones_?" Robert gritted his teeth.

"Robert," spoke a sudden voice from behind him, and Robbie looked over his shoulder to see Mantis. Their eyes met for a moment. Then seconds passed, and Robert began to feel annoyed. And then she spoke.

"Go to Earth," she said firmly.

" _Why?!_ " Robert demanded. That had _not_ been what he wanted to hear. "What do you think I am, a kid who needs his mama? I can take on more than you think! Look, Richard was younger than I am now when he became Nova, and more than twice as stupid!"

"Richard Rider has been on Earth," Mantis said evenly, not even reacting to Robert's scathing tone.

"I fucking know that!" Robbie practically screamed. "He's been on Earth more than he likes!"

"Fighting his friends with the entire Nova Force," Mantis added.

Robert started at that. "Wait, you mean he's on Earth now?"

"Past and present are not easily distinguishable," she shrugged, "but I would advise going now if you wish to find him."

"Okay…" Robert looked at Ronan. "I want home." He glanced at a Mantis. "And if you're tricking me…"

"You have a stronger mind than your brother," she interrupted. "I can sense it easily. You're much wiser than he."

"Really?" Robert was kind of taken aback, but also very flattered.

"Go after him," Mantis said intensely.

"Right…" Robbie looked at Ronan. "So, about my ship?"

"Can you pilot a Kree flagship?" Ronan asked.

"F—flagship?" Robert swallowed. Was Ronan talking about his own ship? Letting him drive it? Wow, Ronan wasn't as smart as the hype, if he was really about to let a human kid drive his ship. But it was cool. Robert smiled broadly. "I'm a fast learner."

Maybe those were the defining words, because it wasn't a flagship Ronan lead him to after all. It was a pretty nice starship, though, if small. Ronan gave him one run through of the controls before Robert said he was leaving. He had a near photographic memory, and there was no time to loose. "Thanks lots," he smiled at Ronan. He was a good man after all.

"Hopefully you can get through to him, if he _is_ fighting his friends," Ronan said seriously.

As Robert took off, he remembered Mantis, and thought really hard at her: _Thank you_. He wasn't close to any telepaths — wasn't as if he was famous, or a superhero, unfortunately — and none of the New Warriors had ever been telepaths, that he was aware of. But he supposed that was the way to do it.

_Good luck to you, brother of Nova. Mantis._

Oh yay, so he had done it right! "On my way, Richard," he whispered as he started off into the depths of space. "It's my turn to save you."


	19. Chapter 19

After Richard was out, the day was all a blur to Vance, as he slipped in and out of consciousness. It wasn't in his hands, anyway. A very badly-looking Tony made an appearance. Richard was laid on a cot with an IV of elephant tranquilizers taped into his vein to keep him out. Then he'd come awake and this thing called the _Worldmind_ (the Guardians insisted it was benevolent) had asked to be downloaded out of his head into an LMD, and while that job was finished, Vance somehow found himself sitting dazedly in a waiting room with Angelica on his lap. _Angelica_ on his _lap_. That had to be wrong. But she was crying, so he held her. What else was there to do?

At that moment, the door opened, and Robbie came in, taking off the Penance helmet in one moment. He looked worse than before, if that was possible with all those cuts. There were circles under his eyes, which were red and puffy as if from crying. He sat down silently beside Vance.

Angel looked up, wiping her eyes. "Any news?"

Robbie shrugged. "Hoped you would know. My team is just hanging around till it's certain the Nova situation is under control. I probably have a while before we head back to Thunderbolts Mountain, so I wanted to see him for myself."

"Don't go with back them." Vance looked at Robbie so intensely that he blinked and looked at the floor.

"I have to. It's my penance. I just want to make sure Rich is better. Please don't worry about me." He paused. "You two look cute. I heard you broke up."

"We did," Angelica said flatly, standing up and sitting down on the opposite side of Robbie from Vance. Well, so much for that. And not even a thank you. _Bitch._

"Sucks." Robbie gazed up at the ceiling. "I never met any other couple who clicked quite like you two."

"Can we just talk about the elephant in the room?" Angel clenched her fists together. "You need to get out of that suit, Robbie. I've lost too many friends… I didn't quit being Firestar just because I didn't like it anymore, just because my identity was out and I wanted to focus on collage. I _can't_ keep loosing friends and stay sane. Look at our original group! Dwayne is dead, Nita is dead, Rich might be gone to us… I can't loose you too."

 _Beat._ Oh God. She had a point. They really could easily loose Robbie forever, seriously, more than in the figurative way of loosing the happy bouncy Speedball persona that Vance loved. Penance had 612 cutting spikes inside his suit. How could he even survive long term like that? How could he survive short term? Others had died from less.

"The Robbie you knew died in Stamford along with Nita and Dwayne and Zachary." Robbie clenched his fists. "I'm sorry. You already lost him. I would bring him back if I could, but what's done is done, and all that's left to me is penance."

"You can be with us!" Angel protested.

"Stop it," Robbie muttered.

"You could crash with me," Vance offered, reluctant to sound like his ex, but his mind worked too fast to stop himself. "I — I won't make you stop wearing… that suit. I promise. Just be around people who love you, okay? Please?"

"I can't," Robbie whispered at his hands. "Please stop. You don't know how much it hurts to tell you this. I love you guys, I always will. But I destroyed a lot of lives, and I… I really can't."

Presently an agent came out, looking nervous. "Um. Hey. The Worldmind had been successfully removed from his brain, and is now apparently trying to figure out how to depower Nova. Richard is awake, and is mumbling about a Robbie, so…" All eyes went to Penance.

Robbie took a deep breath. "I can see him?"

"Yes," the agent pointed the way. "He's in there. You can all come, if you like. He's pretty out of it from the drugs. I can tell you, he is the toughest superhuman I've ever had to sedate in all my career."

Vance stood up, his heart pounding. He hoped Richard wasn't stuck under drugs permanently, that they could get the Nova Force under control and he could be himself again… or at least he wouldn't need to be so doped up to be restrained. Vance needed his homie.

The typical hospital sounds greeted Vance's ears when he came in. The beep of his vitals and the drip of all the IVs. Richard was lying in the bed, twisting the sheets between his fists and muttering intensely. "Robbie… it's my fault, he warned me, where is he? In space? I'm sorry Robbie… Can I go back to space, I miss it, I don't belong here, this isn't my world…"

"Rich!" Robbie skidded to the bed, leaning over it and lightly touching Richard's hands. Rich grabbed one, and Robbie pulled away. "Careful, you'll hurt yourself on the spikes. But I'm here, baby. I'll always be here when you need me. And when I'm not, there's Vance and Angelica. But you'll always have your friends."

"Sentimental," commented a voice in the corner. Vance looked over to see, what's her name, that white Kree girl, standing still like a statue in the corner. She looked mildly battered from the fight.

"Who the hell are you?" Angelica asked. She wasn't normally this sharp, and Vance recognized that she was on her last couple of straws. Poor Angel.

"Phyla-Vell, daughter of Mar-Vell," the woman said quietly but powerfully, "also known now as Quasar. I'm another friend, and supposedly an expert on Xandar. Eek."

" _Captain_ Mar-Vell?" Vance was impressed. That had been one of the greatest Avengers ever!

"Yeah," Phyla replied tersely.

"Toothpick?" Richard yelped, gripping Robbie very suddenly by the arm.

"I'm here." Robbie pulled away slightly, ripping off his gloves to stroke Rich's arm gently with a bloody hand.

"Where's Robbie?" Richard whispered, gazing desperately at him.

"I…" Robbie trailed off, starting to look panicked.

"He's here." Vance sat down snug next to Robbie. "He's still Robbie. Just with the pretty hair gone."

"Stop that?" Phyla winced. "Stop smearing your blood on him. It's…"

"Right." Robbie stood up straight. "Gross. I'm sorry. Didn't mean to."

"Hey Richard," Angel whispered.

"Ang…" Rich whispered back at her. "Is Robbie okay?"

"Uh…" she looked up at Robbie. "He will be."

Robbie snorted very slightly.

"Are you sure he's not talking about his brother?" asked Phyla. "He's star systems away right now."

"He's okay?" Richard asked pleadingly.

"Oh right," Penance smacked himself on the head. "Duh."

 _Oh._ That made some sense. Kinda. Vance hadn't been aware of _that_ Robbie being in space.

"He's safe on Tantus 4," Phyla assured Richard.

"I need to save them." Rich closed his eyes. "Save, conquer, save, conquer… gotta grab some shuteye first. Earth's next. Don't go nowhere."

"I won't," Vance whispered, taking Richard's hand and squeezing it. But his heart hurt. Richard was exactly the same as before, they hadn't taken any steps towards healing him. He didn't have the same energy, sure… but he still couldn't tell the difference between saving and conquering.

Phyla slowly approached the bed, stopping right next to Robbie. She sniffled slightly, and Robbie placed a delicate arm around her shoulders. She leaned her head on his shoulder.

"Did I hurt anybody?" Richard mumbled without opening his eyes.

"Uh…" Vance tried to answer, "they'll be okay."

"Did I kill anybody?" Richard whispered.

Phyla swallowed, but gave it to him 100% straight. "You know you did, Richard. But you can always do better. In the future."

Richard choked back the tears that fell freely from under his closed eyelids. "Did I kill Robbie?"

"No, no, of course not. He's safe as can be, honey," Phyla promised, her assurance so gentle her voice seemed like it could break. "He's safe. I promise."

Richard sniffled. "My God…" he shut his eyes tight. "My God, my God, my God…"

Angelica clasped Richard's other hand. "Don't worry about anything, okay Bucket-head? You need rest."

"Yeah," Richard mumbled, and didn't even finish the word.

"Rich?" Robbie said quietly.

Richard sighed but didn't respond.

Angelica fell back into Vance's arms, and started sobbing. He held her again, for some reason, in spite of everything. Maybe it was because he couldn't be angry enough to deny her consolation for their mutual friend. Maybe it was because he took comfort in the hug too. Maybe it was because he still had feelings for her. He told himself it was just because he didn't want anybody to see when he too cried into her shoulder, but part of him knew it had to be something more.

Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up, blinking. Robbie. Robbie pulled in Phyla, and buried his cheek into Vance's other shoulder. "Group hug," he prompted quietly. Geez. _That_ was Speedball.

Vance wrapped his other arm around Robbie, ignoring the spikes — if Robbie could fight battles with the sharper interior spikes cutting into his flesh all the time, Vance could at least handle hugging against the blunt exterior ones.

"C'mon, girl," Robbie prompted, and a blushing Phyla was pulled in.

"Okay, I know I'm shamefully late, but what the hell is going on in here?" came a deep voice from the doorway. Out of the corner of his eye, Vance saw an extremely buff black guy. Elvin. _Rage_. Inadvertently a smile spread across Vance's face, and for half a second he didn't feel broken.

"Come on, buddy, join in the orgy," Robbie beckoned.

"Holy — Robbie?" Elvin gawked. Apparently he hadn't heard. " _God_ , Robbie!" He ran over and threw his massive arms around them all. Well, that really sealed in the hug.

But too soon, it was over. Richard groaned loudly, crying in his sleep, and then everything was gloomy again.


	20. Chapter 20

Robert Rider landed the ship by the harbor, and was immediately greeted by SHIELD. "Hey," he ran his fingers through his hair, stepping out casually. "I'm looking for Nova?"

"Identify yourself," said one.

"Robert Rider." He pulled out a brand-new business card and tossed it at them. "Project Pegasus. I'm looking for my brother."

There was a pause. "He's been apprehended. Is there anyone with you?"

Robert shook his head.

"Come with me," said the agent, and Robert (against his better judgement) followed the dude into a dark van and rode off.

The trip was awkward, to say the least. Robbie tried calling his dad, who answered instantly; but all Mr. Rider seemed able to talk about was Richard blasting a helicarrier down and fighting the Avengers. Robert felt the normal range of emotions. Hurt that his dad didn't even ask how space had treated him or if he was okay. And then a deep worry for Richard. Nah, it went beyond worry. This was terror. It sounded like big bro had done hella damage, even if he had been stopped in the end. Why would Rich do this? Any of this? He was a superhero. Even when he was annoying, he saved people, he helped people, that was what he did.

There was never a bigger relief than when they reached the SHIELD base. It wasn't a huge building — but it was clearly well-fortified. He passed Gamora as he went in, and he greeted her with his chin up. She stared at him with an indiscernible expression. "So the child returned home?"

Okay, well that was rude. Robert met her gaze. "The child, after being sociopathically abandoned by your peeps, was informed by a telepath that his brother was on Earth."

"Well, you're too late." She looked away disinterestedly. "We already took him down."

"I got that," Robert gritted his teeth and wondered why this space assassin was apparently allowed to wander SHIELD corridors alone.

But then he went on, was lead through a waiting room, and straight to another door. "Your brother is in there. Be careful with him. We're working with his Worldmind to figure how to draw the Nova Force out of him, but he still has all the power. Ideally we could convince him to give it up of his own accord, but…"

Robert nodded slowly as the agents left, and opened the door.

Well, Richard definitely wasn't the only one there. The rest were kind of a mix of on the floor and leaning on the bed. Phyla, Justice, Firestar, Rage, and… holy crap, was that… "Speedball?" Robert whispered. The Stamford murderer himself. He looked different.

"Penance," the battered-up Speedball corrected with a scowl.

"Right… like the Thunderbolt?"

"Something like that."

Robert swallowed. If his constant face on the news was any telling, Child-killer Robbie Baldwin hadn't had a relaxing time since Stamford, so he decided not to press him. Instead he turned his attention to his brother, climbing right onto the bed beside him. "Richie?" he whispered. Richard opened his eyes halfway, sighing. Robert stroked his hand. "Hey, hey whaddup, big bro."

"Robbie?" Richard smiled vaguely. It lasted only a second before being replaced by a look of fear. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." Robert's heart pounded. His brother had always been the confident one, the damn superhero warrior… seeing him like this, it hurt somewhere deep down. "How about you, Rich? How you feeling?"

"Don't worry about that," Rich slurred, "I got a mission. A mission."

"What's that?" Robert asked.

"Conquering the universe," Vance filled in. Robert stared at him, then back at his brother. What…? "He _thinks_ it'll do good," Vance added, squeezing Robert's shoulder in what was probably supposed to be a supportive manner. It didn't help.

"I _can_ do good!" Richard protested vigorously. "Or what's the point… what's the… what's the point of me having all this power? What's the point of the Nova Force in me? What's the point of… what's the point of me being the last Nova? Why aren't I dead? What else is the point of _me_?"

"What's the point of you?" Robert squeezed his brothers hands between his own, struggling not to cry. "You're my big brother! You annoy me and you steal all my spotlights and you make me look bad in front of chicks and you tease me and you give me good advice and you listen to all my problems and you are my _role model_. There's gazillions of reasons for your existence, even when you're an annoying pain in the ass… I wouldn't be me without you. Even if you didn't have superpowers, you're still a tough streetwise guy. Your friends agree, don't they?"

"Richard is a ladies magnet, so there has to be something special about him," Elvin affirmed, popping his lips in agitation.

"You got a chick in her twenties when you were thirteen," Rich muttered.

"Yeah, well… that's embarrassing," Elvin just slightly smiled, though it looked painfully forced. "I didn't think you ever knew about that. Honestly, you should listen to your brother, though. He knows his stuff. Seriously." He sounded worried. Way to throw the stress away at Robert. But it seemed okay.

"I'm your role model?" Richard asked Robert tiredly.

"Well, yeah." Robert flushed. It was the truest truth, but that didn't mean he loved going on about it, especially in front of the freaking New Warriors. "I wish I could fly. And, you know, save people."

"You save people with science," Richard said. It was almost funny.

"No." Robert shook his head. "Not really, no. Big, big, difference from being on the front line."

"But you're safer," Richard whispered. "That's all that matters, you're safe."

"Okay, maybe you should stop talking now." Robert hated to be short with his brother, especially now, when he was so sick, but he _hated_ it when Richard tried to use the protective older brother excuse. Hated it, hated it, hated it. Whether Rich was lucid or not, don't matter. It was still infuriating.

"You have a good little brother, Richard," Phyla said suddenly. "He's a lot like you."

 _But smarter_ , Robert thought, _and a million times less cool_.

"He is good," Rich sighed. "And one day the world he lives in… I'm gonna make it safe."

Ugh. "Richard, I'm not helpless," Robert spoke intensely. He felt as if he might be overstepping things, but he couldn't help but go on. "And you _won't_ be able to take over the Earth. You tried. You were defeated. You failed. Nobody takes your ideas seriously, you know that?"

" _What_ the _fuck_ are you doing?" Vance broke in suddenly. He sounded angry, and that made Robert feel a little sick. He didn't want a superhero he admired (like Justice) to disapprove of him. But hey. This was Richard they were talking about, so not even Justice could put Robert off that bad.

"They don't _have_ to take me seriously." Richard's eyes glowed with a light that was pale and cold. "I got the power to make up for that."

"He still does," backed up Phyla unhelpfully. "He may not have the mental energy to use that power at present, but—"

"Exactly," Robert clenched a fist. "They got you down, Rich. You do understand that? Do you understand that they beat you — and that they're not the bad guys in this fight? The Avengers took you down." He hesitated. "You understand they _needed_ to take you down? The Avengers needed to take you down."

Richard's lip curled. "Am I your role model?"

"Yes!" Robert unclenched his fist. In spite of Vance's horrified face being slowly matched by the others', Robert couldn't fight the feeling — Richard needed to understand. "Richard Rider, my brother, is my role model. But… do you understand that you've changed?"

"I…" Rich hesitated, blinking. "Duh. Yeah, I'm better. Nova Force made me better. Better than humans now. Not in a racist way. In a higher level of consciousness way."

 _Okay…_ "If that was true, do you think you'd be where you're at now? Don't you think you'd still be free?" Robert asked.

"Ah…" Richard bit his lip. "Huh."

"Rob, he's barely awake," Penance said softly.

"No," Richard mumbled. "I thought I was greater than everybody. But you're right. If I'm greater I would've succeeded. But I didn't. You're right. I'm not worthy of being…" he choked. "I failed. I shouldn't be alive."

"Rich, don't say that," Vance cried.

"I failed conquering, I failed Sakaar, I failed Earth, I failed Xandar, I failed the Corps…" Richard gulped. Wow, melodramatic older brother. But it made Robert feel awful.

"No, it's a good thing, you can get help now." Robert squeezed his hand again. "You can get well."

"I wasn't sick!" Richard's hand felt extremely hot all of a sudden, and his lip curled as if with anger.

"Rob, I don't think…" Vance tried.

"Hear him out," interrupted Angelica.

Hear him out? What else could he say? Robert swallowed. "Rich, you're right that the Nova Corps did very important work. But you can't expect to continue it all on your own, with the methods you come up with. It's destroying you, Rich. You've done enough good already, you saved the universe, it's time to pass the responsibility onto _others_ now. I miss my brother… I don't want to loose you forever." Okay, Robert was crying now. Ugh. It was hard to go on, but he forced the next few words out from your heart. "Please don't keep resisting help, you're only destroying yourself faster."

Richard swallowed, blinking way too vacantly. Damn… damn. "I… failed." Rich took a deep breath. "You think I'm crazy?"

"Well," Robert paused, struggling to use a light tone, "not persay, but I have been informed that the Nova Force has driven you crazy, yes, and it seems well-founded idea. But can you really expect otherwise? It was meant for the brains of thousands of Novas, but it's all stacked up on your little brain." He paused. "You're not yourself, I can give you that. The Richard I know would find a better way of saving the world than fighting it. Unless people were being mind controlled. And then you'd be super careful."

"Like that time with the Darkforce!" Elvin put in.

"Right!" Robert smiled. He hadn't participated in that unfortunately, of course not being a superhero, but it had been hard to miss the mobs of mind controlled people roaming the streets.

Richard shut his eyes. "You… you're better than me. _You're_ taking care of _me_. Robbie… me… it's crazy. It's crazy."

"You don't always have to be the protective one," said Robert softly. "We're brothers, we're here for each other."

Richard opened his eyes. "This is hard, Robbie. But… you're right. Why would I fail if I wasn't broken? My body is empowered, so it gotta be my mind." he swallowed. "Do good, Robbie. I know this is what you've always wanted… I love you."

 _What?_ Robbie barely mouthed, before he was hit with something. It was the strangest sensation he had ever felt, and it was wonderful, uplifting, empowering, filling his mind so intensely he couldn't focus on a single moment of matter… and the next thing he knew, he was three feet in the air. He stared down at himself, dropping slowly down to the ground. Blue and gold.

_I'm Nova._

_YES!!!_

Then his thoughts turned back to Richard, who had fallen back out of consciousness. Instinctively Robert ripped the IV from his brother's arm.

"What the hell?" Phyla cried.

"What did he…" Angelica trailed off.

"Did he give you all his power, or just that of a centurion?" Phyla demanded.

What? This was… he was… what the hell was she asking? "I… don't know…" Robert looked down at himself, "I just know I feel like I could do anything… and the amount of tranquilizers pumped into my brother is lethal for an ordinary human, if that's what he is now. Somebody get him some Gatorade!"

Penance ran out, presumably to do that. Hopefully to do that. Robert massaged Richard's arms, confused. Why would Rich make him a Nova? If Robert knew anything, that was the last thing Rich wanted. Richard was the queen of overprotective assholes. Richard wanted to be the superhero of the family. He didn't want Robert to get any of that spotlight. But…

_Do good, Robbie. I know this is what you've always wanted… I love you._

That's what he'd said. That spoke stuff. That spoke stuff for real. For real that Rich wasn't thinking straight.

Penance came back, metal helmet on his head again, but a Gatorade in his outstretched bloodied hand. "Kinda vaporized the vending machine."

"You…" Elvin stared at him in disbelief.

"It's cool, _Toothpick_ , Stark has the money," Robert accepted the drink. "Uh… is it safe to put this in the IV?"

"No?" Angelica suggested. "His blood sugar could rise drastically and…"

"Maybe?" put in Vance, and Robert wondered if it was just for the sake of disagreeing with his ex. "Electrolytes are healthy for rebalancing… stuff… that makes it more hydrating than water."

"Wake up," Elvin put a hand against Richard's cheek. "He's cold."

"It's okay. Dead bodies don't go cold that fast," Penance said unhelpfully. "So… it's probably just some weird cosmic affect."

"Right…" Vance pursed his lips.

Robert sat his limp brother up on his knee, slowly pouring the Gatorade into his mouth. Richard started coughing and Robert stopped.

"He's alive!" breathed Angelica.

Robert nodded, but there was a cold feeling in the pit of his fiery stomach. Just 'cuz Rich was alive now, didn't tell how long he'd _stay_ alive… and if Rich was dying… it would be because of him… oh man.

"Oh hey," said Phyla, "if he did give you the full Nova Force… it wouldn't be unheard of… you could try to use your power to heal him."

"I could?" Robert stared at her. He'd had no idea Rich could do that. Ugh, how was he supposed to…? Dammit, Richard had been right all along. Robert wasn't cut out to be a superhero, if he didn't even know how to use the Nova Force.

"Just try," Phyla said. Her voice was encouraging. "You can do it, Robbie. Just focus."

"Okay." Robert took a deep breath, and put his hands on his brother, focusing the Nova energy, thoughts of Richard being okay again at the forefront of his mind. At first nothing happened, and he felt stupid — what was he, a Jesus wannabe? Then Richard sighed, chewing lightly on his bottom lip, and the determination went back into Robert. All this power, coursing through his veins… Rob could already see how Rich had lost it. What was this power for, if not to be used? It had so much potential… damn.

Richard blinked open his eyes halfway, making a weak fist. Robert took his hand and stroked it. He felt Phyla's hand on his back. "Good work. You saved him."

Robert nodded slowly. But what to do now? Fight Thanos or Galactus or somebody worth his power? He could be a hero now. A superhero, just like he'd always wanted. Things were perfect. How was that possible? How had things got so good so fast, when they had just been so bad.

"Robbie…" Richard opened his eyes weakly, and stared. "Wow."

Wow. And Rich really looked… wowed. Robert's heart seemed to pound in slow motion. How had… this was familiar. From his dreams… in how many dreams had Robbie seen his big brother look at him that way? Their places were actually switched. Now Richard was the awed one and Robert was the awesome one. Really. For real. For actually.

"Robert, you need to give up the power," Phyla said slowly. "Sooner the better. Only you can do it now."

"Right…" Robert mumbled, then looked down at himself. Give up the power. But it was so much! He couldn't just waste all this golden goodness… fuck this, he could feel the legacy in this thing, the history! A million dead Novas who had given their lives with this honor. Disgracing that would be, well, that would be more than insane, it would be disgusting. "No." He looked at her. "I can be a superhero. If Rich can do it, I sure as hell can."

"It's not a question of skill," Vance tried, biting his lip. "Rich didn't have that amount of power when he was a superhero, when he was a New Warrior with me. And he never needed it."

"Look what it did to your brother," Phyla told Robert slowly. "Cast it off into space."

"Into space?" Robert stared at her incredulously. "Do you have any idea how old the Nova Corps is? Do you have any idea how long the peacekeepers of Xandar harnessed this power for the good of so, so many? Do you have any idea at all?" _Do you have any idea how much I've wanted this for such a long, long time?_

"Robbie…" Richard blinked intensely, and Robbie braced himself for his overprotective brother to agree with Phyla-vell and Vance friggin' Astrovik. But then Richard said in a soft voice, "Don't let their legacy disappear. They… they deserve at least that."

And Robert knew exactly what he meant. The Nova Corps. Richard had served among the Corps for most of his life, he'd devoted himself to the service, and they had been like family to him. He understood how important this thing was.

"I'll protect it," Robert whispered. "I'll protect their memory, Richard, I promise." Then he turned to the window and leapt out without a second thought, without a worry. He'd never done it before, but… he found that he could fly. And he flew into the blue sky till it faded to black and stars twinkled all around him.

Robert paused, floating in space, looking all around himself in wonder. He wasn't cold, and oxygen was presumably supplied to him because he wasn't suffocating. For real, he felt amazing. Was this what Richard felt like all the time? Well, used to feel like a the time?

Well, with great power comes great responsibility, as Spider-Man's motto went. Robert was going to use this power responsibly, he was going to save so many many lives… and hell, as a beginner, he had a lot of exploring to do. With this in mind, and a smile on his face, he shot off into the depths of space like the human rocket that he now was.

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and maybe Rob controls it fine and maybe he doesn't uh-huh? :)  
>  xo Thank you if you stuck by and read the whole story, I really actually appreciate it a lot and I hope you liked it and I love you. <3


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